City of Demeter's Tree
by serina-phantom
Summary: FULL SUMMARY INSIDE. Johan Andersen's life is turned upside down when he meets the son of Zeus, Judai Yuki, who's hunting the goddess Demeter, who is searching for someone. And her mission may just involve Johan. Spiritshipping! Judai as the seme!
1. The Domino Effect

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (_spiritshipping_); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

Me: Okay, my dear, sweet readers! Thank you all for clicking, for this is our first story using Judai as the seme for more than one scene or chapter, so we hope everyone will enjoy it!

Lucy: If this chapter set-up seems familiar, that's because we sorta fused _The Mortal Instruments_ and Greek mythology, but we think everyone will find it interesting.

Me: The story starts off in a dance club, where Johan, our star hero, meets with the demigods for the first time!

Lucy: And has his first encounter with the amazing Judai Yuki!

_**Chapter One: The Domino Effect**_

"You've got to be joking," the bouncer said, folding his arms across his gigantic chest. He peered down at the boy in the blue zip-up jacket and shook his shaved-and-tattooed head. "You can't bring that thing in here."

The sixty or so teenagers in line outside the Domino Club leaned forward and to the side to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the teens-only club, especially on a Saturday, but not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down on anyone who they deemed would start trouble. Sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen, standing in line with his best friend, Ruby, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement.

"Oh, come on!" The kid hoisted up a plastic stake, pointed at one end. "It's fake. It's all part of my costume."

The bouncer raised an eyebrow. "Which is…?"

The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Johan thought, for Domino. He had dark green hair that stuck up in all directions like a startled starfish, but no elaborate facial tattoos or thick metal rods through his eyebrows or lips. "I'm a demon slayer." He pushed on the plastic stake, which bent easily in his hand.

The boy's wide eyes were too yellow to be human, Johan noticed: the color of the sun at its peek. Contact lenses, probably. But then why did they seem to glow whenever he blinked? The bouncer shrugged, suddenly bored. "Whatever. Go in."

The boy slid past him, slick as an eel and quick as a cat. Johan liked the way he slid on the pavement, the way he moved. He didn't like the creepy glare one brown-haired Goth was giving him as he stalked by, right past the bouncer with a blond girl and a tall boy with a cowboy hat on following him.

"You thought he was cute," Ruby teased, sounding victorious. "Admit it."

Johan elbowed her in the ribs, but didn't answer.

* * *

Inside, the club was all foggy with dry ice, flashing colored lights playing on the dance floor, turning it into a wonderland of flashing pinks and greens, decadent blues and bright, flashy golds and yellows.

The boy in the blue jacket stoked the tip of the knife in his hands, an idle smile playing with his lips. It had been way too easy—a bit of magic to make the weapon seem harmless and voila! The moment the bouncer stared into his eyes, he was in. Of course, he could have gotten in without all the trouble, but that's what made it fun—fooling the humans and slithering past them in a form they deemed safe.

Not that humans didn't have their uses. The boy's golden eyes scanned the dance floor, where slender limbs clad in leather and black cloth appeared and disappeared in revolving columns of smoke as the humans danced. Girls tossed their long hair, boys swung their leather-clad hips, and bare skin glittered with sweat. Vitality just eked off them, waves of energy filling him with a drunkenness he never wanted to let go. His lips drew back into a smirk. They had no idea how lucky they were. They didn't know what it was like to eke life out into a dead world, to pour sun into a land deprived of light. Their lives burned as bright as candle flames—and were just as easy to snuff out.

His hand tightened on the knife blade- not that he really even needed the knife- and he had just begun to step out onto the dance floor when a girl broke away from the mass of mortal dancers and began walking toward him. She was beautiful, for a human—long hair nearly the precise color of gold, shimmering sunny eyes. Floor-length blue gown, the kind women use to wear when the world was younger. A golden bangle hung around her wrist and a bracelet wrapped around her upper arm. Around her neck was a silver chain, on which hung a dark red pendant the size of a baby's hand. He only had to narrow his eyes to know that it was real—real and precious. His mouth started to water as she approached. Vital life force surged from her like blood from an open wound. She smiled, passing him, and beckoned with her eyes. He turned to follow her, tasting the phantom flavor of her death on his lips.

It was always easy. He could already feel the power of her evaporating life pulsing through his veins like wildfire. Humans were so stupid. They had something so precious, and they barely safeguarded it at all. They threw away their lives for money, for packets of addicting powder, for a stranger's charming grin. The girl was a pale ghost against the multicolored back-drop. She reached the wall and turned, bunching up her skirt in her hands, lifting it as she grinned at him. Under the dress, she wore strappy Greek sandals.

He sauntered near her, his skin prickling with her presence. Up close she wasn't so perfect: He could see the mascara smudges under her eyes, the sweat sticking her hair to her slender neck. He could smell her mortality, the sweet rot of eminent death. Another scent was there, but the mortality overpowered it. _Got you_, he thought with a silent chuckle.

A cool smile played with his lips. She moved to the side, and he could see that she was leaning against a closed door. NO ADMITTANCE—STORAGE was scrawled across it in bright green paint. She reached behind her for the knob, turned it, slid inside. He caught a glimpse of stacked boxes, tangled wiring. He glanced behind him- no one was looking. The nearest people were a brown-haired Goth and a tall dark-haired boy wearing a cowboy hat. But they didn't matter; they weren't paying attention to him. So much better if she wanted privacy.

He slipped into the storage room, unaware that he was about to be pursued.

* * *

"So," Ruby said, "pretty sweet music, huh?"

Johan didn't answer. They were dancing—or what passed for it—a lot of swaying back and forth with the occasional lunges toward the floor as if one of them had dropped a contact lens—in a space between a group of teenage girls in metallic corsets, and a young American couple who were making out passionately, their colored hair extensions tangled together like vines. A boy with a lip piercing and a Hello Kitty backpack was handing out free packets of herbal ecstasy, his long hair blowing in the breeze from the wind machine. Johan wasn't paying attention to their immediate surroundings—his eyes were on the blue-haired boy who'd talked his way into the club, the one the brown-haired Goth had been glaring at. The blue-haired boy prowled the club as if looking for something. There was something about the way he moved that reminded him of something…

"I, for one," Ruby went on as if Johan were paying attention. "am enjoying myself."

This seemed very likely. Ruby, as always, blended in with the club, in a black tank top and a faded purple skirt. Her naturally curly hair was long and naturally purple. She looked less as if she were heading off to a chess club, which she actually enjoyed doing, and more like she were contemplating the powers of darkness.

"Mmm-hmm." Johan, on the other hand, stood out in the middle of the club. He always stood out, dressed in a pair of black jeans and a white T-shirt with the words OLD NAVY across the front. His hair certainly matched the setting—a natural neon blue. Many people doubted him when he told them this was his natural hair color. Johan wasn't even really sure why he came to the Domino Club- maybe it was to get away from boring old life. To walk on the edge of danger every now and again. But he was always too shy to talk to anyone except Ruby, who would be a social butterfly if Johan wasn't hanging around.

The blue-haired boy straightened up suddenly, snapping to attention like a hunting dog. Johan followed his line of sight until he spotted the girl in the blue dress.

She was gorgeous, the kind of person Johan would've liked to draw—tall and as slim as a ribbon, with a long spill of golden hair. Even at this distance, Johan could see the red gem around her neck, beating like a separate heart.

"I feel," Ruby went on, "that DJ Duke is doing a great job. Don't you agree?"

Johan rolled his eyes but didn't respond. His attention was on the girl in the blue dress. Through the darkness, smoke, and artificial fog, the girl stood out like a beacon. No wonder the boy was following her as if in a trance—oblivious to everything else, even the two dark shapes that followed right at his heels.

Johan slowed his dancing and stared. He could just make out that the two shapes were boys, tall and wearing black clothes. He didn't know how he could've known that they were following the blue-haired boy, but he just knew. He could see the pace they kept after him, the way they tried not to be spotted. None of the other dancers seemed to notice them or even move out of their way as they passed, as if they didn't see them.

"Meanwhile," Ruby went on, "I've wanted to tell you that I've been considering getting a sex change. And that I realized I might be a lesbian and that I'm secretly doing your mom. Just thought I should let you know."

The girl reached the wall, and was opening a door marked NO ADMITTANCE. She beckoned the blue-haired boy to her and they slipped inside. It wasn't anything Johan hadn't seen before, a couple sneaking off to make out in dark corners of the club—but what made it even weirder was that they were being followed.

He raised himself up on tiptoe, trying to see over the crowd. The two guys had stopped at the door and seemed to be conferring with each other. They were the brown-haired Goth boy and the one with the cowboy hat Johan had seen glaring at the blue-haired boy outside at the door a short while ago. The brown-haired Goth reached into his jacket and drew out something long and shiny from a pocket. A knife.

"Ruby!" Johan shouted, and seized her arm.

"What?" Ruby looked alarmed. "I'm not really doing your mom, you know. I was just trying to get your attention. I mean, not that I wouldn't sleep with her if I was a lesbian. She's a very pretty woman for her age."

"Do you see those guys?" He pointed wildly, almost hitting a curvy Asian girl who was dancing nearby. She shot him an evil look. "Sorry—sorry!" He turned back to Ruby. "Do you see those two guys over there by the door? The brown-haired Goth and the tall dark-haired one in the cowboy hat?"

Ruby squinted crimson eyes, then shrugged. "I don't see anyone."

"There are two of them. They were following the guy with the blue hair—"

"The one you thought looked cute?"

"Oh, shut up, Ruby! That's not the point! The Goth pulled a knife!"

"Are you sure?" Ruby arched her neck up, still squinting toward the door. "Johan, I don't see anyone there."

"I'm positive!"

Suddenly all business, the "elder-sister" Johan knew she acted like, Ruby squared her shoulders. "I'll go get one of the security guards. You stay here." She strode away, pushing through the crowd of angry dancers.

Johan turned just in time to see the brown-haired Goth slip through the NO ADMITTANCE door, his friend right on his heels. Johan looked around; Ruby was still trying to push her way across the dance floor, but was making no progress. Even if he yelled now, no one would hear him; and by the time Ruby got back, something terrible might already have happened to the blond girl. Biting hard on his lower lip, Johan started to wriggle through the crowd.

* * *

"What's your name?"

She turned and smiled. What faint light there was in the storage room spilled down through high barred windows smeared with dirt and dust. Piles of electrical cables, along with broken bits of mirrored disco balls and discarded paint cans littered the floor.

"Asuka."

"That's a lovely name." He walked toward her, stepping carefully among the wires in case any of them were live. In the faint light she looked half-transparent, just a golden angel wrapped in royal blue. It would be a pleasure to make her fall… "I haven't seen you around here before."

"You're asking if I come here often?" She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. There was some sort of bracelet on her wrist with a set of strange runes, one of them looking like a Greek symbol the blue-haired boy was all too familiar with.

He froze. "You—"

He didn't finish. He couldn't. She moved with lightning swiftness, striking out at him with her open palm, a blow to his chest that would have sent him down gasping if he'd been a mortal. He staggered back, and now there was something in her hand, a coiling whip made of celestial bronze that glinted as she brought it down, curling around his ankles, bringing him off his feet. He hit the ground, writhing in pain, the hated metal biting deep into his flesh. She laughed, standing over him, and he dizzily thought that he should've _known_. No human girl would wear what she did, and the other scent he'd smelled before had been coming from her. She'd worn that dress—a borrowed one, no doubt—to hide her scent, half of her scent.

Asuka tugged on the whip, tightening it. Her smile glittered like poison. "He's all yours, boys."

A low laugh sounded behind him, and now there were hands on him, hoisting him to his feet, throwing him against one of the pillars. He could feel the damp stone at his back. His hands were pulled behind him, his wrists bound by celestial bronze wire. Ad he struggled, someone walked around the side of the pillar and into his view; a boy, young as Asuka, and just as lovely. The one the boy'd seen dancing before he'd foolishly gone after Asuka. His eyes shone like chips of amber. The other boy worked on his wrists, binding them tight. "So," said the brown-haired Goth. "Are there any more with you?"

The blue-haired boy could feel blood welling up under the too-tight metal, making his wrists slippery. "Any other what?"

"Oh, come on now." The amber-eyed boy held up his hand, and his dark sleeves slipped down, showing the silver bracelet he wore with the face of the gorgon Medusa carved. The face sent shivers down the blue-haired boy's spine. Only one person in the world had a bracelet like that- one that bore resemblance to the same shield that the goddess Athena wore, the one she'd built after she'd received the head of the gorgon from Perseus. "You know who I am."

Far back inside his skull, the boy's second set of teeth started to grind.

"_Child of Zeus_," he hissed.

The brown-haired Goth grinned all over his face and pointed his index and middle finger at the blue-haired boy, winking one of his eyes. "Gotcha."

* * *

Johan pushed the door to the storage room open, and stepped inside. For a moment, he thought it was deserted. The only windows were high up and barred; faint street noises came through them, the sound of honking horns and squealing tires. The room smelled like old paint, and a heavy layer of dust covered the floor, marked by smeared shoe marks.

_There's no one here_, he realized, looking around in bewilderment. It was cold in the room despite the August heat outside. His back was icy with sweat. He bent down to free his white and brown boot from the cables—and heard voices. A girl's laugh, a boy answering sharply. When Johan straightened up, he saw them.

It was as if they'd sprung into existence between one blink of his eyes and the next. There was the girl in her long blue dress, her damp blond hair hanging down like liquid gold. The two boys were with her—the tall one with a bandage over one of his eyes and a cowboy hat perched on his head, and the smaller, brunette one, whose hair was as dark as milk chocolate and shone in the dim light glittering through the barred windows. The brunette Goth was standing with his hands in his pockets, facing the punk kid, who was tied to the pillar with what looked like bronze piano wire, his hands tied behind him, his legs bound at the ankles. His face was pulled tight with pain and fear.

Heart hammering in his chest, Johan ducked behind the nearest concrete pillar and peered around it. He watched as the brown-haired Goth paced back and forth, his arms now crossed over his chest. "So," he said. "You still haven't told me if there are any others of your kind lurking around here."

_Your kind?_ Johan wondered what he was talking about. Maybe he'd stumbled into some kind of gang war.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The blue-haired boy's tone was sharp, but full of pain.

"He means other manticores," said the dark-haired tall boy with the cowboy hat and the bandaged eye, speaking for the first time. He had a heavy Australian accent. "You do know what a manticore is, don't you?"

The boy tied to the pillar turned his face away, his mouth working.

"Manticores," drawled the brown-haired Goth, tracing the word on the air with the tip of his finger. "Defined as a monster that seems like a lion and a scorpion that has a tendency to feast on the flesh of humans, but understood here, for the purposes of the demigods, to be any wicked lion-like monster whose origin is outside our home dimension—"

"That's enough, Judai," said the girl.

"Asuka's right, mate," agreed the dark-haired Australian. "No one here needs a lesson in demonology—or accurate purposes of monsters."

_They're insane_, Johan thought. _Actually insane._

Judai raised his head and smiled. There was something fierce about the gesture, something that reminded Johan of documentaries he'd watched about tigers on the Discovery Channel, the way the big cats would raise their heads and sniff the air for prey. "Asuka and Jim think I talk too much," he sighed, confidingly. "Do _you_ think I talk too much?"

The blue-haired boy didn't reply at first. His mouth was still working. "I could give you information," he said. "I know where Demeter is."

Judai looked back at Jim, who shrugged. "Demeter's in the ground," he said. "The thing's just toying with us, guys."

Asuka tossed her hair. "Kill it, Judai," she said. "It's not going to tell us anything."

Judai raised his hand, and Johan saw dim light spark off the knife he was holding. It was made of silver and bronze, the blade shiny as crystal, sharp as a shard of glass, the hilt set with bright red stones.

The bound boy gasped. "Demeter is back!" he protested, dragging at the bonds that held his hands behind his back. "All the Underworld knows it, all the monsters in this world know it- I know it- I can tell you where she is—"

Rage suddenly flared in Judai's icy eyes. "By the gods, every time we capture one of you bastards, you claim you know where Demeter is. Well we know where she is, too. She's in Hell, with the rest of the creatures that tried to rise against my father and the other Olympians. And you—" Judai turned the knife in his grasp, the edge sparking like a line of flames. "You can _join_ her there."

Johan could take no more. He leaped out from behind the pillar. "Stop!" he cried. "You can't do this!"

Judai whirled, so startled that the knife flew from his hand and clattered against the concrete floor. Asuka and Jim turned with him, wearing identical expressions of astonishment. The blue-haired boy hung in his bonds, stunned and gaping.

It was Jim who spoke first. "What the hell's this?" he demanded, looking from Judai to his companions, as if they might know what he was doing there.

"It's a boy," Judai said, recovering his composure. "Surely you've seen boys before, Jim. We're boys, for Zeus's sake." He took a step toward Johan as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. "A mortal boy," he said, half to himself. "And he can see us."

"Of course I can see you," Johan said. "I'm not blind."

"Oh, but you are," said Judai, bending to pick up his knife. "You just don't know it." He straightened up. "You'd better get out of here, if you know what's good for you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Johan said. "If I do, you'll kill him." He pointed at the boy with blue hair.

Judai chuckled. "That's true," he admitted, twirling the knife between his fingers. "What do you care if I kill him or not?"

"Be-because—" Johan sputtered. "You can't just go around killing people!"

"You're right," said Judai. "You can't go around killing _people_." He pointed at the boy with blue hair, whose eyes were slitted. Johan wondered if he'd fainted. "That's not a person, little boy. It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a human. But it's not. It's a monster."

"_Judai_," said Asuka warningly. "That's enough."

"You're fucking insane," hissed Johan, backing away from him. "I've called the police, you know. They'll be here any second."

"He's lying," said Jim, but there was doubt on his face. "Judai, do you—"

He never got to finish his sentence. At that moment, the blue-haired boy, with a high, yowling cry, tore free of the restraints binding him, tore himself free of his flesh, and flung himself on Judai.

They fell to the ground—an oversized lion with a scorpion's tail and claws and a Goth with brown hair—the manticore tearing at Judai with claws that glittered as if tipped with metal. Johan backed up, wanting to run, but his feet caught on a loop of wiring and he went down, knocking the breath out of his chest. He could hear Asuka shrieking. Rolling over, Johan saw the lion sitting on Judai's chest, claws tipped with blood. Electricity surged through his body and pulsed into Judai, whose boy jolted, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Jim and Asuka were running toward them, Asuka brandishing her whip in hand. The manticore, as Judai had called it, slashed at Jim with claws extended. Jim threw up an arm to defend himself, and the claws raked it, splattering blood. The manticore lunged again—and Asuka's whip came across his back. He shrieked and fell to the side.

Swift as a flick of Asuka's whip, Judai rolled over. There was a blade gleaming in his hand. He sank the knife into the manticore's chest. Blackish liquid exploded around the hilt. The manticore arched off the floor, gurgling and twisting. With a grimace, Judai stood up. His black shirt was blacker now in some places, wet with blood. He looked down at the twitching form at his feet, reached down, and yanked out the knife. The hilt was slick with black fluid.

The manticore's eyes flicked open. His eyes, fixed on Judai, seemed to burn with fear. Between his teeth, he hissed, "You couldn't have survived that much electricity. It was enough to kill twenty men."

Judai seemed to snarl. "Like you said before," he growled. "Child of Zeus."

The manticore's eyes rolled back. His body began to jerk and twitch as he crumpled, folding in on himself until he became a pile of white powder that blew away into the wind and out of existence. The smell of sulfur burned in the air.

Johan scrambled to his feet, kicking free of the electrical wiring. He began to back away. None of them were paying attention to him. Jim had reached Judai, who was holding his arm, pulling at the sleeve, probably trying to get a good look at the wound. Johan turned to run—and found his way blocked by Asuka, whip in hand. The bronze length of it was stained with dark blood. She flicked it toward Johan, and the end wrapped itself around his wrist and jerked tight. Johan gasped with pain and surprise.

"Stupid little mortal," Asuka said between her teeth. "You could've gotten Judai killed."

"He's insane," Johan said, trying to pull his wrist back. The whip bit deeper into his skin. "You're all crazy! What do you think you are, vigilante killers? The police—"

"The police aren't going to be interested unless you can produce a body," said Judai. He picked his way across the cable-strewn floor toward Johan. Jim followed close behind, a scowl on his pale face. His visible blue eye stood out and caught Johan like a spotlight. The silver bracelet on Judai's wrist shone with a face so startling that Johan froze in terror.

He glanced to the spot where the manticore had been, and said nothing. There wasn't even a smear of blood there—nothing to show that the boy-who-turned-manticore had ever even existed in the first place.

"He's not dead. They return to the Underworld when they die," said Judai. "In case you were wondering."

"Judai," hissed Jim. "Be careful."

Judai drew his arm away. A ghoulish smear of blood marked his face. He reminded Johan everything of a Greek god—silver lightning dancing behind his amber eyes, form as beautiful and as graceful as an angel's. "He can see us, Jim," he said. "He already knows too much."

"Doesn't smell like a demigod, does he?" asked Asuka.

"A what?" Johan breathed.

Jim ignored him and answered Asuka's question. "No. He doesn't. Not in the least." He turned his full attention to Judai. "But if he's not a demi, what else can he be?" he asked, his voice soft and… fearful? "What if he's the—"

"The what?" Judai's tone was challenging. "What were you gonna say, Jim? You think he's the Seed of Demeter's Tree?"

"It's possible," Jim argued.

"No, it's not," Judai said matter-of-factly. "Demeter's Seed hadn't appeared for over three hundred years. Her Tree is dying; no one can change that. Besides, there's no way she'd make a human be the Seed, anyway."

Judai looked at Johan for the first time, and really looked at him. Johan felt himself burning under Judai's sudden gaze. The brunette Goth didn't look smug or even angry at him. In fact, he was staring at Johan as if he were the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. Johan had to look at his chest just to make sure he was still breathing. A silent moment passed between the two, emerald green locked on lightning brown. Johan could see the individual sparks of lightning bouncing in Judai's beautiful brown eyes. _Wait… did I just call his eyes beautiful?_ Johan tried his hardest not to blush in front of these strangers. Judai looked as if he were thinking the same exact thing, his cheeks starting to turn a dusty rose color.

"So what do you want me to do with him?" demanded Asuka.

"Let him go," Judai said quietly. Asuka shot him a surprised, almost angry look, but didn't argue. The whip slithered away, freeing Johan's arm. He rubbed his sore wrist and wondered how the hell he was going to get out of there.

"Maybe we should bring him back with us," Jim suggested. "I'll bet Samejima would like to talk with him."

"No way are we bringing him to the camp!" argued Asuka. "He'll never get past the barrier, anyway! He's a mortal."

"Or is he?" said Judai softly. His quiet tone was worse than Asuka's snapping or Jim's demanding. "Have you ever had dealings with demigods, little boy? Walked with gods, danced with gorgons, talked with the harpies—"

"My name is not 'little boy'," Johan interrupted, glaring at Judai. "And I have no idea what you're talking about." _Don't you?_ said a voice in the back of his head. _You saw a boy turn into a lion with scorpion claws vanish into thin air. Judai isn't crazy__—__you just wish he was_. "I don't believe in—in monsters, or demigods, or whatever you are—"

"Johan?" It was Ruby's voice. He whirled around. She was standing by the storage room door. One of the burly bouncers who'd been stamping hands at the front door was next to her. "Are you okay?" She peered at him through the gloom. "Why are you in here by yourself? What happened to the guys—you know, the ones with the knives?"

Johan blinked at her, then looked behind him, where Judai, Asuka, and Jim stood, Judai still in his bloody shirt with the knife in his hand. He grinned at Johan and dropped a half-mocking, half-apologetic shrug. Clearly he wasn't surprised that neither Ruby nor the bouncer could see them.

Somehow neither was Johan. Slowly he turned back to Ruby, knowing how he must look to her, standing alone in a damp storage room, his feet tangled in bright plastic wiring cables. "I thought they went in here," he said lamely. "But I guess they didn't. I'm sorry." He glanced from Ruby, whose expression had gone from worried to doubtful, to the bouncer, who just looked tired and annoyed. "It was my mistake."

Behind him, Asuka giggled.

* * *

"I don't believe you," Ruby said stubbornly as Johan, standing at the curb, tried desperately to hail a cab. Street cleaners had come down Orchard while they were inside the club, and the road was glossed black with oily water.

"I know," Johan said apologetically. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you like that, Ruby. I should have watched where they were going before making you go to the bouncer and then making you seem like an idiot."

"Fuck the embarrassment, Johan!" Ruby snapped. "You—I don't believe _you_. I do believe you about the guys with the knives, but I don't believe you when you say you must've been mistaken about them even being there."

Johan sighed, a bit relieved. So Ruby wasn't angry at him. She was worried. "But it's true, Ruby. Maybe there weren't any guys with knives. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing."

"No way." Ruby raised her hand above her head, but the oncoming taxis whizzed by her, spraying dirty water. _Geez_, Johan thought. _Where is everyone going at midnight on a Sunday?_ "I saw your face when I came into that storage room," Ruby continued. "You looked seriously freaked out, like you'd seen a ghost."

Johan thought of Judai with his lighting-filled brown eyes. He glanced down at his wrist, braceleted by a thin red line where Asuka's whip had curled. _No, not a ghost_, he thought. _Something even weirder than that._

"It was a mistake," he said wearily. He wondered why he was lying to her. Except, of course, that she'd think he was crazy. And there was just something about what had happened—something about the black blood bubbling up around Judai's knife, something in his voice when he'd said, _Have you ever walked with gods?_, that he'd rather keep to himself.

"Well, you looked too freaked for it to be just a mistake," Ruby said. She glanced back at the club, where a thin line of fog was eking out the door and onto the street. "I doubt they'll ever let us back in the Domino, not that I care."

"Then why bring it up?" Johan raised his hand again as a yellow blur sped toward them through the fog. This time, though, the taxi screeched to a halt at their corner, the driver laying on the horn as if he needed to get their attention.

"Finally we get lucky." Ruby yanked the taxi door open and slid into the plastic-covered backseat. Johan followed, inhaling the familiar scent of old cigarette smoke, leather, and cheap hair spray. "We're going to Crystal Street," Ruby said to the driver, and then she turned to Johan. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Johan hesitated a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, Ruby," he said. "I know I can."

He slammed the cab door shut behind him, and the taxi took off into the night.

* * *

Me: Just great! Chapter one, and Johan's already involved with creatures from Greek mythology, and he's met the amazing, and completely electrifying, Judai Yuki, son of Zeus!

Lucy: Tch—great pun, Ke-chan. Electrifying, son of Zeus. Nice.

Me: Hey, I work with what you give me.

Lucy: Anyway, we're hoping that people will enjoy this story with Judai as the seme as much as our other ones, and please go easy, since this is one of our first times writing with Judai as the seme, so we might be a bit off! Please review, but don't be harsh, because we are trying out best to make it interesting!


	2. Lost Cause

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (spiritshipping); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

Me: All right, my faithful readers! The second chapter is up!

Lucy: And we know it's late, but—Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! (_Throws CoDT(1) plushies and cookies to all the fans_)

Me: This will be a fairly short story: Not too much filler, but a whole lot of action and exciting scenes, and plenty of romance between Johan and Judai, as you will all see later!

Lucy: We hope you all enjoy this chapter of CoDT!

**Chapter Two: Lost Cause**

_The dark Goth prince of lightning sat astride his dark steed, his ebony cape flowing behind him. A silver circlet bound his amber-brown locks, his handsome and inhuman face was cold with the rage of battle, and..._

"And the horse looks like a fish," Johan muttered to himself. The drawing just wasn't working out. With a sigh, he tore another sheet from his sketchbook, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the trash can that was already overflowing with discarded balls of paper, a sure sign that his creative juices just weren't working right. He wished that he could be like his mother. Everything Andrea Andersen drew, painted, or sketched was beautiful and seemingly effortless.

Johan took out his earphones—cutting off Disturbed in midsong—and rubbed his aching temples. It was only then that he became aware of the loud ringing coming from the phone in the living room. Dropping the sketchpad onto the bed, he jumped to his feet and rushed into the living room, where the phone sat on a table near the door.

"Is this Johan Andersen?" The voice on the other end of the phone sounded strangely familiar.

"Yes," Johan answered softly. "Who's this?"

"Hi, I'm one of those knife-wielding psychos you met last night in the Domino? I fear I've made a bad first impression, and wanted a chance to make it up to you—"

"Ruby!" Johan held the phone away as she started laughing. "That's not funny."

"Oh, it was totally funny," she argued. "You just don't see the humor."

"Witch." Johan sighed, leaning up against the wall. "You wouldn't be laughing if you had to deal with what I did when I got home."

"Your mom?"

Johan nodded. "Yup," he said. "She freaked. She wasn't happy that we were home so late." He sighed. "Basically, she said I made her worry, I let her down, blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., and some junk like that. You know how it goes."

"Boy, don't I." Ruby came from a family of seven kids, with her being the youngest, so she had a good sense of family justice, and could reason out any fight with her parents. Johan, on the other hand, was an only child. "So, are you grounded?" She said it a bit too loudly; Johan heard the rumble of her siblings speaking in the background.

"I don't know yet," Johan claimed honestly. "Mom and Dad went out, and they're not back yet. Your brother babysitting?"

"Yeah. We just finished listening to Sapphire's musical number." A symbol clashed loudly behind her. Johan winced. "Emerald's doing a poetry reading tonight at Café a la Música," she went on, ignoring her brothers and one sister as they started to shriek over one another. "We're all going to be there. Do you want to come?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" He tugged at the phone line. "Wait, no."

"What?" The noise behind Ruby got so loud that Johan couldn't hear what she was saying anymore. He heard her shuffle down the hallway, toward the living room, and then things were quiet enough for him to hear her, though the background noise was still there. "Was that a yes or a no?"

"I don't know." Johan bit his lip. "Mom's still pretty peeved about me being late. I don't know if she'll want to let me go out."

"Come on, it's not that big a deal." Johan could practically hear the grin in her voice. "It's just a poetry reading downtown. You're coming to watch my elder brother. It's not like we're going to some orgy as a tribute to Dionysus. Your mom and dad can come too, if they want."

The joke about the Greek god made Johan flinch.

After what happened with Judai and Jim and Asuka… whatever they were… everything of and relating to Greek mythology made him uneasy. He'd spent the majority of the night looking through his parents' mythology books to learn as much about demigods and the Olympians as he could. Somehow, he didn't think it was going to help that much.

"ORGY AS A TRIBUTE TO DIONYSUS!" Johan heard someone, probably Ruby's brother Topaz, yell. Another cymbal crashed. Johan flinched, imagining his parents hearing Emerald's poetry.

"I don't know," Johan murmured. "Mom and Dad might get freaked if they see all of you there together."

"Then I'll come alone. I'll walk down, pick you up, and we'll go from there. Your parents won't mind; they love me!"

Johan had to laugh. "Sign of their questionable taste."

"You're sweet." Ruby clicked off, amid shouts at her siblings.

Johan hung up the phone and glanced around at the living room. Signs of his mother's artistic ability were everywhere—the handmade velvet gray pillows piled up on the dark red sofa, the paintings of ash trees and nymphs playing hanging on the walls, and the clay statues of a tree with a male nymph and a female nymph emerging from it.

_Mom loves nymphs_, he laughed.

It was true—almost everything his mother did had a nymph somewhere in it. Most of the time, the nymphs were based off her and Joshua, Johan's dad, but once in a while, Andrea would put in a smaller nymph, like a mini-version of Joshua. It took Johan a few moments to realize that the little nymph was based off him.

The sound of the key turning in the front door roused Johan out of his reverie. Hastily, he threw himself down on the couch and picked up one of his paperback books—_Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief_ by Rick Riordan—and started to pretend to read. Johan's parents recognized reading as a sacred pastime, and wouldn't interrupt him in the middle of it, even to yell at him.

The door opened with a thump. It was his dad, his arms full of what appeared like large squares of pasteboard. When he set them down, Johan saw that they were cardboard boxes, folded flat. He straightened up and turned to Johan with a smile.

"Hey Dad," Johan said. "Where's Mom?"

"Parking the truck," he said, straightened his lanky form with a pained groan. Everyone said how much he and Johan looked alike all the time, and Johan could see why. Joshua Andersen was a taller, near-mirror-image of him, but with darker blue hair with one or two streaks of gray. His eyes were the same color, and their features were identical. Johan found it easy to imagine that he would look exactly like his father when he got older.

Today, he wore his usual uniform: old worn jeans, a flannel T-shirt, and a pair of brown boots he'd had since he was Johan's age. They looked super old, as if they could've been the first pair of boots ever invented. Strangely, Joshua would laugh like that were an inside joke whenever Johan asked.

"Remind me why this place has no elevator," Joshua complained.

"Because it's old, and has character," Johan said immediately. Joshua grinned. "What are the boxes for?"

His smile vanished behind a dark flash. "Something's going on," he said, thumping his foot on the ground, glaring. "Do me a favor—don't talk to old Ms. Meredet for a while, will you? Not until we figure some things out."

"Figure what out?"

Joshua gave an airy sigh. "I'll explain in a little while," he said, "once your mother's here, too. She'll want to help explain." He tried to change the subject by saying, "What are you reading?" He plucked the book from Johan's hands and read aloud: "_Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of me, and there was my mother, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death_—" He paused and lowered the book back to his son's hands. "Is that for school?"

"_The Lightning Thief_? No. School's not for another month," Johan said.

"Right."

Johan put the book on the table. "Dad?"

"Uh-huh?" He had his back turned to Johan, rummaging through his tool kit, muttering to himself like he always did. "Ah-ha!" He jerked out a bright orange tape gun. "Ha ha ha! There you are, you son of a bitch! So, Johan, what was your question?"

"What would you do if you if the Greeks gods, like in Percy Jackson, did exist?"

The tape gun fell from Joshua's hand and crashed to the tile floor. Joshua recovered a second later, cursed, and swooped down to pick it up. "Y-you mean, like if the Greek gods were real people?"

"Yeah," Johan murmured.

He hesitated, holding the tape gun in his hand. "Johan," he murmured, "you're a very artistic person, just like your mother. You tend to think of things that are imaginary. But one day, it might become apparent to you what is real, and what's myth." His expression darkened. "I'll explain what I mean in a little while, so don't think anything of it."

Johan pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees. In his mind's eye, he saw the storage room, Asuka with her golden whip, the manticore convulsing on the ground, Judai's eyes flashing with lightning. _Beautiful and terrible_, he thought. "What do you think it would be like to be a demigod?"

Joshua looked taken aback. Before he could answer, the door swung open, and Johan's mom walked inside, her boots clicking on the tiles. She handed the jingling keys to her husband, and then she turned to face her son.

Andrea Andersen was a slim, compact woman, her hair a few shades lighter than Johan's and twice as long. At the moment, it was up in a tight bun, a pencil shoved through it to keep it in place. She wore paint-spattered jeans and a lavender T-shirt, and brown boots exactly like her husband's—old and very worn.

Andrea had a graceful way of walking, the kind of way that made people turn their heads to watch her as she passed. Johan, by contrast, was always tripping, like his father. The only time someone turned to watch them go by was when they were both hurtling past them as they fell down a flight of stairs.

"Thanks for bringing the boxes up," she said to Joshua, and she smiled at him. Joshua didn't return the smile. Johan's stomach did an uneasy flip-flop. There was something very serious going on. "Sorry it took me so long to find a space. There must be a million people in that parking lot today, and—"

"Mom," Johan murmured, "what's going on?"

Andrea bit her lip. Joshua's eyes flicked mutely toward Johan, silently urging his wife forward. She sauntered over and joined her son on the couch. Up close, Johan noticed just how tired she was. There were dark half-moons under her green eyes.

"Is this about last night?" Johan asked. "If so, I'm sorry. If you're going to ground me, just get it over with."

"We're not," Andrea said, "grounding you."

"Then what is it?"

Andrea let out a puff of dry air. "We're going to have a long talk, Johan." Her voice was as taut as a wire. "It's a serious talk, and you're going to have to listen to everything we say before you say anything. All right?"

"Am I in trouble?" Johan's chest was tight with fear.

"No!" The shock was evident in Andrea's face. "You're not in trouble, baby. You're not in any trouble. It's just that we're going to explain a few things to you. Things we shouldn't have kept hidden from you, but we did."

Johan's eyes flickered from his mother to his dad. Joshua was hanging his head, his glare aimed toward the window. He looked as if he were preparing to fight whoever came bursting through the glass.

Lightning flashed in the distance; thunder boomed. Joshua and Andrea visibly tightened up, both eyes zipping to the window. The sky was as clear as ever. _So why had there been thunder?_ Johan wondered. He looked from his mother to his father, noticing their tense bodies, their equally scared expressions.

Joshua turned to the door. "I'm going out. I'll be back in a sec. Just need to check something," he said. Johan noticed that the hairs on the back of his father's neck were standing on end.

"Joshua!" Andrea called. Her expression was very much the same as his.

The door flew open. Andrea gave a little scream.

"Holy Hera!" Joshua exclaimed.

"Actually, it's me," Ruby said, grinning up at Joshua. "Although, I have been told that I give her a run for her money." She laughed, but Andrea and Joshua looked at the sky like they expected a lightning bolt to strike them dead. Ruby waved, still smiling. "Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Andersen." She peered around Joshua. "Johan, you ready?"

Andrea took her hand away from her mouth. "Ruby, were you eavesdropping?"

Ruby blinked. "No, I just got here." She looked from Johan to Joshua and then to Andrea, noticing both of Johan's parents' pale faces. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Johan answered for them. "We're going to be late. Mom, Dad, can I go to the poetry competition with Ruby, to see her brother perform?"

Andrea flinched slightly. "That's—"

"Fine," Joshua finished, his eyes flickering to his wife. "That's fine, Johan. Just make sure to come home. We'll continue our talk as soon as you get back." His face seemed paler than Johan remembered, like ash covering a pale white tree. "Just… be careful, all right? Please?"

Johan took Joshua's nervous tone cautiously. "Yeah, sure, Dad. No problem."

He took Ruby's wrist and half-dragged her toward the doorway. She dug her heels in, her eyes locking on Andrea, who stood beside her husband with her hands knit together. "Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Andersen!" she called. "Have a nice evening!"

"Oh, be quiet, Ruby!" Johan groaned, closing the door tight behind him.

* * *

"Jesus, boy, don't tear my arm off," Ruby protested as Johan dragged her down the stairs after him, his brown-and-white boots slapping against the wood. He glanced up, half-expecting to see his mother or father staring down after him, but the apartment door stayed shut tight.

"Sorry," he murmured, releasing her and stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

Johan's apartment, like all the others on Academy Street, had once been home to a very wealthy family. Shades of its former glory were still evident in the curving stairway, the marble in the lobby, and the stain-glass pained window overhead. Now the house was split into separate apartments, and his parents shared the three-story building with a downstairs tenant, an elderly woman who ran a psychic shop from her apartment. A gold plague on the door proclaimed her to be MADAME MEREDET, SEERESS AND PROPHETESS.

The thick scent of incense spilled from her half open door, and the low hum of voices came along with it. The scent lulled Johan into a trance-like state, where he almost walked into her apartment and sat down. His eyes felt glazed, the smoke filling his mind with sweet images of rolling fields and peaceful lakes.

"Nice to see she's doing a booming business," Ruby joked, snapping Johan from the trance. "Not many people hire prophets, these days."

"Yeah." Johan nodded half-mindedly. "Nice."

Ruby blinked, clearly concerned. "Are you all right? You seem freaked out. What were you and your parents talking about?"

Johan was about to reply when the door to Madame Meredet's apartment flung open, and a young woman stomped out, clearly upset with something. She was tall, with snow-white skin, soft brown eyes that shimmered like jewels, and long, tangled black hair. She smiled at Johan with blinding white teeth.

A strange sensation washed over him, the aching feeling that he was going to faint.

Ruby glanced at him uneasily. "Johan, are you all right? You look like you're going to collapse."

He blinked at her. "Huh? What, no, I'm fine."

She didn't seem to want to let it drop. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

He shook his head. The memory of having just seen someone teased him, but when he tried to focus, it slid away like water. "No, no one," he answered. "I thought I saw Meredet's cat, but it must've been a trick of the light." Ruby stared at him, not believing. "I haven't eaten anything since yesterday," he added in his defense. "I'm hungry."

She slid a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Come on. I'll get you some food."

* * *

"I just can't seem to figure out what's bothering them." Johan chased a tray of sushi with his finger and snatched a piece up. They were at a neighborhood restaurant, a hole in the wall called JAP-O-RAMA. "They seemed perfectly fine until I started talking about mythology, and then they got all weird and sprung this 'We need to talk' stuff on me."

"Well, you know, your parents do get like this every now and again," Ruby said. "Besides, I know your parents. It's probably not anything bad. I know them, Johan—it won't be anything that bad."

Johan nibbled on a piece of sushi. "Do you?" he asked. "Do you really know them? Sometimes I wonder if anyone does. They never talk about their pasts. I don't even know anything about my family other than them. It's like their lives started when they had me. That's how they put it whenever I ask."

"Aw," Ruby smiled honestly, "that's really sweet."

"Maybe, but it's still weird," Johan said. "I don't know anything about my grandparents, about where I came from. I mean, what kind of grandparents don't even want to meet their own grandson? It's not right!"

Johan glanced up at Ruby, who was looking at him, her eyes lit with concern. Her face was so familiar that Johan could've drawn it in his sleep. He thought about the lonely weeks he had spent without his best friend, and he sighed. "Come on," he said, standing up and reaching to take Ruby's hand. "We're going to be late."

* * *

By the time they reached Poetry Hut—Lame name, but most of the kids who came were stoned, so Johan knew they didn't care—Emerald was already on stage, swaying back and forth in front of the microphone with his eyes squinted shut. Cobalt, his elder brother, looking stoned, was beating irregularly on a djembe.

"This is going to suck so-o-o hard," Johan predicted. He grabbed Ruby's shoulder and jerked her toward the doorway. "If we run for it, we can get away. He'll never know we weren't here."

Ruby shook her head determinedly. "I'm nothing if not a girl of my word." She squared her shoulders. "I'll get the drinks if you find us a seat. What do you want?"

"Coffee. Black—_like my soul_."

Ruby rolled her eyes and headed off to get the coffee. Johan went off to find them a seat in the back.

The place was overly packed, for a Monday, so fortunately, all that was available was a red couch in a darkened corner. Johan plopped down, noticing that the only other person was a girl with black hair playing around with her iPod. _Good_, he thought. _Emerald won't be able to find us after the show._

Ruby came back holding two paper cups and placed them down on the table. "I hate it when they run out of mugs!" She dropped down on the couch and blew on the tips of her fingers. "Oh, that hurt!"

Johan was about to answer, when a loud mess of microphone feedback pierced the air and made him clap his hands over his ears. Onstage, Emerald was wrestling with the microphone.

"Sorry about that, guys!" he called. "All right! I'm Emerald, and this is my brother, Cobalt, on the drums! My first poem is called 'Agony'." He scrunched up his face, as if in pain, and then wailed into the microphone. "_Come, my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal_!"

Ruby slid down in her seat. "Please don't tell anyone he's my brother."

Johan snickered. "Who uses 'loins' anymore?"

"My brother," she groaned. "He uses the word in all of his poems, trust me on that one."

"_Turgid is my torment_!" Emerald wailed. "_Agony swells within_!"

"You bet it does!" Johan said under his breath. He sunk down in his seat and sighed. He was about to ask Ruby a question, more a mockery than anything, when he heard someone cough behind him. It was a strange cough, like someone was trying not to laugh, trying so hard to cover it up.

He turned around.

Sitting on a faded green couch a few feet away from him was Judai. He was wearing the same dark clothes he'd had on the night before in the club. His wrist bore the same metal cuff that turned into a shield with the freaky face. He was looking right at Johan, the side of his mouth curled in amusement, the lightning in his eyes dancing. Worse than the feeling that he was being stared at was Johan's absolute conviction that Judai had not been sitting there a few moments ago.

"What is it?" Ruby followed his gaze, but it was obvious by the blank expression that she didn't see Judai sitting there.

_But I can see you_, Johan thought. He stared at Judai while he thought this. Judai raised his hand to wave, the silver bracelet on his wrist glittering in the dim lights. Then he got to his feet and walked unhurriedly toward the door. Johan's lips parted in shock. He was leaving, just like that.

He felt Ruby's hand on his arm. She was calling his name, asking him what was wrong. He murmured, "I'll be right back," and then bolted out the door after Judai, leaving Ruby staring in shock after him.

* * *

Johan burst through the doors, terrified that Judai would have vanished into the alley shadows like a ghost. But he was there, slouched against the wall, singing softly to himself, "_If you fall in love with a demigod, Mount Olympus will erupt_." He looked up in surprise as the door to the coffee shop slammed shut and he saw Johan staring at him.

In the rapidly falling twilight, his eyes shimmered with living blue electricity. "Your friend's poetry is horrid," he said. "It sounds like he swallowed a dictionary and just started spewing words out at random."

"I don't care about Emerald's poetry." Johan felt a twinge of anger. "I want to know why you're following me."

Judai seemed amused. "And who says I was following you?"

"_Nice_ try. And you were eavesdropping, too. Do you want me to call the police?"

Judai's electrifying eyes sparkled bright blue with amusement. "And tell them what? That the demigods are bothering you? Trust me, little one. The police won't be interested in people they can't see. The Mist covers their eyes, keeps them ignorant."

"I told you before," Johan growled, blushing, "my name is not 'little one'. It's _Johan_."

"I know," Judai responded. "It's pretty."

Johan blushed bright red. "W-what are you saying?"

"You don't know much, do you?" Judai's eyes glittered with that strange lightning, the power of a demigod. "You appear to be as human as every other mortal, and yet, you can see me. It's quite a conundrum."

"But you're human."

"_Half_-human," claimed Judai. There was no defensiveness in his tone. He sounded like he didn't care whether or not Johan believed him or not. "I find it rather funny," Judai continued, "that Samejima finds you dangerous. If you are, you certainly don't know it."

"Who's Samejima?"

"My teacher," Judai answered with an off-hand shrug.

Johan's head was spinning. "I don't understand this at all!" He turned away from the demigod. "I don't get this—Why are you torturing me? Do you get some sick thrill out of watching me suffer like this?"

To his surprise, Judai said, "No!"

He had to turn—Judai sounded so desperate.

When he saw the demigod, Judai's eyes were alive with blue lightning, but his expression looked stricken, as if the idea of torturing Johan had nearly killed him. He saw Johan staring, realized the face he must've been making, and quickly reverted back to a calm state. The light in his eyes died down a tad.

He glanced at the sky. "It's almost full dark. We should go."

"We?" Johan demanded.

"Yup." Judai didn't sound embarrassed in the least; he shrugged. "Samejima would like to speak with you."

"Why would he want to talk to me?"

"There are many things that are strange in this world, Johan," Judai murmured. "And it's not because you're a human who can see us. There are many humans who know about the gods and the demigods. But they are all adults—lovers and consorts to the gods, and human parents to the demigods. But you"—He pointed to Johan's heart—"you are a child. A teenager. No teenagers know of us. You're way too young to be a parent to a demigod, so why you can see us is a mystery."

Johan folded his arms across his chest. "And what if I don't want to go?"

"That's fine. You can come conscious or unconscious."

Johan couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "Are you threatening to kidnap me?"

"If you want to see it that way," Judai grinned, "then yes."

Johan opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a sudden buzzing sound. His phone was ringing again. "Go ahead and answer it, if you like," Judai said. The phone stopped ringing, then started up again, loud and insistent. Johan frowned—his parents must really have wanted to finish their talk. He half-turned away from Judai and reached into his pocket. When he unearthed his phone, it was already on its third set of rings. He raised it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Johan! Oh, thank the gods!" A sharp prickle of fear ran up Johan's spine. His father sounded panicked. "Johan, listen to me—"

"It's all right, Dad," Johan said. "I'm fine. I'm on my way home—"

"_No_!" Terror scraped Joshua's throat raw. "Do not come home! Do you understand me, Johan? Don't you dare come home! Go to Ruby's. Go right to Ruby's and stay there until we can—" A noise in the background interrupted him: the sound of something falling, shattering, something heavy dropping to the floor. His mother screamed somewhere in the back.

"Dad!" Johan yelled into the phone. "Dad, are you all right?"

A vicious buzzing noise came from the phone. Johan's father's voice cut through a stream of static and frantic yells: "Just promise me you won't come home! Go to Ruby's and call Meredet—tell her she's found us—" His words were drowned out by the heavy splintering of wood. Joshua's voice broke off with a violent scream; Johan's mother whimpered beside him.

"Who's found you? Dad, did you call the police? Did you—"

His frantic question was cut off by a noise Johan would never forget—a harsh, slithering sound, like vines, followed by a thump. Johan heard his mother draw in a sharp breath before Joshua started speaking, his voice eerily calm: "We love you, Johan."

The phone went dead.

* * *

"Dad!" Johan shrieked into the phone. "Dad, are you there?" _Call ended_, the screen said. He shivered; his eyes were full of bitter tears. _Why would Dad have hung up like that?_ Dread tore through him. _Unless something was wrong..._

"Johan," Judai said. It was the first time Johan's heard him call him by name. "Johan, what's going on?"

Johan ignored him. Feverishly, he hit the button that dialed his home number. There was no answer except for a double-tone busy signal. Johan's hands had begun to shake uncontrollably. When he tried to redial, the phone slipped from his shaking grasp and hit the pavement hard. He fell to his knees to retrieve it, but it was dead, a long crack visible across the front. "DAMMIT!" Johan threw the phone down, in tears.

"Stop that!" Judai caught his wrist and hauled him up. "What's happened?"

"Give me your phone!" Johan grabbed the nearest black metal oblong out of Judai's pocket. "I need to—"

"Demigods don't carry phones," Judai murmured, making no move to get it back. "It's a Sensor, a type of device used to track down the one I am hunting. She—"

"Not right now!" Johan yelled. "I have to call the cops!"

Judai's grip on him softened. "Tell me what's happened first." Johan struggled against his grip. He was incredibly strong. _Well_, Johan thought, _he is the son of a god, if they exist_. "Johan, I am a child of Zeus—brother to Perseus and Hercules, two of the greatest and well-known heroes in the world. I can help you, but you have to tell me what's happened."

Fear flooded through Johan, a hot mess of anxiety an horror. Without thinking, he reached out and struck Judai. The demigod reeled back; Johan's hand burned where he had touched him. He ignored it. Tearing himself free, Johan raced toward the lights of Seventh Avenue.

When he reached the streets, he spun around, half-expecting to see Judai at his heels.

But the alley was empty.

For a moment, he stared uncertainly into the shadows. Nothing moved inside them. He spun on his heel and ran for home. _They're okay_, he told himself over and over and over again. _They're just fine! Nothing's happened to them. They're going to be all right when I get home._ Something deep down inside his heart wasn't so sure.

* * *

Me: Oh no! What's happened to Johan's parents? Who's found them and what does she want? (1) This is City of Demeter's Tree, in case no one could figure that one out.

Lucy: And what of Johan and Judai's relationship. Judai was horrified by the suggestion that he was torturing Johan, and how will he handle the thing that is attacking Johan's parents? Will Judai help _at all_?

Me: All this and more when we return! Please review!


	3. Minos

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (spiritshipping); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

Me: Next chapter, next chapter!

Lucy: Johan's father just called him, and it sounds like he and Andrea are being attacked! Johan runs home, despite his fathr's warning, and leaves Judai behind!

Me: What will become of our dear protagonist?

Lucy: Read to find out!

**Chapter Three: Minos**

The night had gotten even hotter, and running home felt like swimming as fast as he could through boiling soup. At the corner of his block, Johan got trapped at a DON'T WALK sign. He jittered up and down impatiently on the balls of his feet while traffic whizzed by in a blur of headlights. He tried to call home again, but Judai hadn't been lying: his phone wasn't a phone. At least, it didn't look like any phone John had ever seen. The Sensor's buttons didn't have numbers on them, just more of those bizarre Greek symbols, and there was no screen.

Jogging up the street toward his house—after becoming fully aware of the two new ash trees standing outside his doorway—he saw that the second-floor windows were lit, the usual sign that his parents were home. _Okay_, he told himself. _Everything's fine_. But his stomach tightened the moment he stepped in the entryway.

The overhead light had burned out, and the foyer was in darkness. The shadows seemed full of secret movement, and Johan shivered as he started up the stairs.

"And just where do you think you're going?" said a voice.

Johan whirled. "What—"

He broke off. His eyes adjusted to the dimness, and he could see the shape of a large armchair, pulled up neatly in front of old Madame Meredet's closed door. The old woman was wedged into it like an overstuffed cushion. Johan could just barely make out the shape of her powdered face, the shine in her glittering eyes, and the dark yawning gap of her mouth when she spoke. "Your parents," she said, "have been making quite a racket up there." Her voice glittered, as if she knew something Johan didn't know. "What are they doing?"

"I don't think—"

Madame Meredet stood up, tall and elegant despite her old age. "Thinking, Mr. Andersen," she said, "is the mortal enemy of power. Know this well."

Johan reeled back slightly. The old woman was starting to scare him. "All right."

"Good." Madame Meredet snapped her fan shut. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." Her voice twinkled again, with that same tone, and then she vanished inside her house, and Johan didn't see her again.

Johan's sense that something was wrong only increased when he reached the apartment door. It was unlocked, hanging slightly open, spilling a wedge-shaped shaft of light onto the landing. With a feeling of increased panic, he pushed the door open.

Inside the apartment lights were still on, all the lamps, everything turned on to full brightness. The glow stabbed into his eyes.

His mother's keys and pnk handbag were on the small wrought iron shelf by the door, where she always left them. "Mom?" Johan called out. "Dad, I'm home."

There was no reply. He went to the living room. Both windows were open, yards of gauzy white curtains blowing in the breeze like restless ghosts. Only when the wind dropped and the curtains settled did Johan see that the cushions had been ripped from the sofa and scattered around the room. Some where torn lengthwise, cotton innards spilling onto the floor. The bookshelves had been tipped over, their contents scattered. The piano bench lay on its side, gaping open like a wound, Andrea's beloved music books spewing out.

The most terrifying thing were the paintings. Every single one had been cut from its frame and ripped into shreds, which were scattered on the floor with the remnants of the clay statues of the nymphs his father had made. It must've been done with a knife—canvas was almost impossible to tear with your bare hands. The empty frames looked like bones picked clean. The statues of the nymphs were in pieces—the man and the woman—but the little boy nymph was missing.

Johan felt a scream rise up in his chest. "_Mom_!" he shrieked. "_Dad! Where are you? Mom, Dad_!"

Heart pumping, he raced into the kitchen. It was empty, the cabinet doors open, a smashed bottle of Tabasco sauce spilling peppery red liquid on the linoleum floor. His knees felt like bags of water. He knew he should run out of the apartment, get a phone, call the police. But all those things seemed distant—he had to find his Mom and Dad first, needed to see that they were all right. What if robbers had come, what if his parents had put up a fight—?

_What kind of robbers didn't take a wallet with them? Or the TV, the DVD player, or the expensive laptops?_

He was at the door to his parents' bedroom now. For a moment, it looked as if this room, at least, had been left untouched. Andrea's handmade quilt lay neatly folded on the duvet. Johan's own face stared back at him from a picture frame on the tabletop beside the bed, five years old, gap-tppthed smile framed by wild blue hair. A sob rose in his throat. _Mom, Dad_, he cried inside, _what happened to you?_

Silence answered him. No, not silence—a noise sounded through the apartment, raising the short hairs along the nape of his neck. Like something being knocked over—a heavy object striking the floor with a dull thud. The thud was followed by a dragging, slithering sound—and it was coming toward the bedroom. Stomach constricting in terror, Johan scrambled to his feet and turned around slowly.

For a moment, he thought the doorway was empty, and he felt a wave of relief. Then he looked down.

It was crouched against the floor, a long, scaled creature with a cluster of flat black scales set dead center in the middle of a blind, slightly human face. Something like a cross between a human, an alligator and a centipede, it had a thick, long head and a barbed tail that whipped menacingly from side to side. Long human arms with jagged nails bunched underneath the serpentine body as it readied itself to spring.

A shriek tore itself out of Johan's throat. He staggered backward, tripped, and fell, just as the creature lunged at him. He rolled to the side and it missed him by inches, sliding along the wood floor, its claws gouging deep grooves. A low growl bubbled from its throat.

He scrambled to his feet and ran toward the hallway, but the thing was too fast for him. It sprang again, landing just above the door, where it hung like a malignant spider, staring down at him with its eyeless face. Its jaws opened slowly, showing a row of fanged teeth spilling greenish drool. A long black tongue flickered out between its jaws as it gurgled and hissed. To his horror, Johan realized that the noises it was making were words.

"_Boy_," it hissed. "_My mistress demands I bring you too_."

It began to slither slowly down the wall. Some part of Johan had passed beyond terror into a sort of icy stillness. The thing was on its serpentine tail now, like a cobra ready to strike, crawling toward him. Backing away, he seized a heavy framed photo off the bureau beside him—himself and his father and mother at the amusement park, about to go on the bumper cars—and hurled it at the monster.

The photograph hit its midsection and bounced off, striking the floor with the sound of shattering glass. The creature didn't seem to notice. It came on toward him, broken glass splintering under its weight. "_Mistress demands that I bring you. She has a special purpose for you, little man, a special purpose indeed..._"

Johan's back hit the wall.

He could back up no further. He felt a movement against his hip and nearly jumped out of his skin. His pocket. Plunging his hand inside, he drew the plastic thing he'd taken from Judai. The Sensor was shuddering, like a cell phone set on vibrate. The hard material was almost painfully hot against his palm. He closed his hand around the Sensor just as the creature sprang.

The creature hurled itself into him, knocking him to the ground, and his head and shoulders slammed against the floor. He tried to twist to the side, but it was too heavy. It was on top of him, an oppressive, slimy weight that made him want to gag. "_Want to eat_, it moaned. "_But it is not allowed, to swallow, to savor, to feast off this one._"

The hot breath in his face stank of blood. He couldn't breathe. His ribs felt like they might shatter. His arm was pinned between his body and the monster's, the Sensor digging into his palm. He twisted, trying to work his other hand free. "_Mistress will not notice if I take a small nibble_," it cooed in that same vicious voice. "_A tiny bite. An itsy-bitsy little nibble. Mistress will never know. She will not be angry_." Its lipless mouth twitched as its jaws opened, slowly, a wave of stinking breath hot in his face.

Johan's hand came free. With a scream, he hit out at the thing, wanting to smash it, to blind it. As the creature lunged for his face, jaws wide, he slammed his fist between its teeth and felt hot, acidic drool coat his wrist and spill burning drops onto the bare skin of his face and throat. As if from a distance, he heard himself screaming.

Looking almost surprised, the creature jerked itself back, removing Johan's wrist from its teeth. It growled, a thick angry buzz, and tilted its head back. Johan noticed something in its teeth where his wrist had been—a small little seed he didn't even know he'd been holding, if he ever had in the first place.

The creature gulped down the leaf; Johan saw the movement in its throat. _I'm next_, he though, panicked. _I'm_—

Suddenly the thing started to twitch. Spasming uncontrollably, it rolled off Johan and onto its back, arms flailing in the air. Black liquid poured from its mouth, green acid dripping from its lips.

_That's not drool green_, Johan couldn't help but notice.

Gasping for air, Johan rolled over and started to scramble away from the thing. He'd barely reached the door when he heard the thing scream and start to come after him. He turned, caught sight of it. Leaves and branches were jerking out of its body, puncturing its flesh and shooting up from inside it, like something out of that movie _Alien_. The thing screamed—branches silenced it as they grew from inside his mouth. Johan turned away from it and ran.

The door behind him burst open. Johan screamed—_More monsters?_—and took off faster. His legs felt like Jell-O, his body burned. He heard some item, some strange thing, whistle through the air behind him, flying next to his head.

He tried to duck, but it was too late. An object slammed heavily into the back of his head, and he collapsed forward into blackness.

* * *

Light stabbed through his eyelids, blue, white, and red. There was a high wailing noise, rising in pitch like the scream of a terrified child. Johan gagged and opened his eyes.

He was lying on cold damp grass. The night sky rippled overhead, the pewter gleam of stars washed out by city lights. Judai knelt beside him, the silver braclet on his wrist throwing off sparks of light as he ripped off pieces of the cloth he was holding into strips. "Do not move," he commanded, voice clear and strong.

The wailing threatened to split his head in half. The light wasn't so bad—those two ash trees that had mysteriously come from nowhere blocked most of it. Johan turned his head to the side, disobediently, and was rewarded with a razor-sharp stab of pain that shot down his back. He was lying on a patch of grass behind Andrea's carefully tended rosebushes. The foliage partially hid his view of the street, where a police car, its blue-and-white light bar flashing, was pulled up to the curb, siren wailing. Already a small knot of neighbors had gathered, staring as the car door opened and two blue-uniformed officers emerged.

_The police_. He tried to shit up, and gagged again, fingers spasming into the damp earth.

"I said not to move," Judai hissed, voice strange, as if he were...concerned? Johan seriously doubted that. "Fucking Minos got you in the back of the neck. It was half-dead, so it wasn't much of a sting, but we have to get you to the Camp. Hold still."

"That thing—that monster—it talked." Johan was shuddering.

"Impossible." Judai's hands were gentle as he slipped the strip of knotted cloth under Johan's neck, and tied it. It was smeared with something cool and waxy, and the pain dulled. "Minos can't talk."

"He did." Johan closed his eyes, still shaking.

Judai shook his head slowly. "Johan," he murmured, "a mortal can't hear monsters speak."

"But I heard him," Johan whispered weakly.

Judai pursed his lips tight.

"That thing," Johan whispered, going back to the demon he'd just fought. _What did Judai call it? Minos? Like the story guy?_ "He said he was going to hurt me, that his mistress wanted me."

Judai shivered slightly at the word "mistress", but he touched Johan's wrist with his electric-warm hand—Johan sighed at the warmth—and whispered, "But it didn't. It's dead. In fact, _you_ were the one who killed it."

Judai helped Johan stand up. "We should go. You're poisoned, and the police are here. Though ten to one says those aren't real police officers. The gods have special ways of manipulating people to do their business so mortals won't know the truth." He steadied the boy with his hands, his eyes flickered with worry. "You can stand, right?"

"I think so."

The world tilted. Judai turned and started to lead Johan away from the scene at his house. Johan was busy trying not to collapse. The ground was heaving up and down underneath his feet. "Judai," he moaned, and he crumpled into him. Judai caught him as if he were used to catching fainting boys, as if he did it every day. Maybe he did. He swung Johan up into his arms, saying something that sounded like _Hang on_. Johan tipped his head back to look at Judai, but saw only stars cartwheeling across the dark sky overhead. Then the bottom dropped out of everything, and not even Judai's arms around him were enough to keep him from falling.

* * *

Me: Agh! Johan got hurt by King Minos, that stupid monster! But Judai managed to come save him, and it seems that Johan has a few powers of his own. But is he human, or something else entirely?

Lucy: And what did Minos's "mistress" want with him?

Me: All this and more when we return! Please review!


	4. Samejima's Summer Camp for Demigods

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (spiritshipping); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

Me: All right, my dear and beloved readers!

Lucy: Last chapter, Johan was wounded by Minos, a monster sent by some woman to catch him, but for what?

Me: In order to find out, please read on and we will update promptly! We hope you all enjoy this story and everything that comes along with it! We are having a great time writing it!

Lucy: Read to find out!

**Chapter Four: Samejima's Summer Camp for Demigods**

"Do you think he'll ever wake up? It's been three days already."

"You have to give him time, Asuka. Minos's poison is strong stuff, and he's just a mortal. He hasn't got godly blood and nectar to keep him strong like we do."

"Mortals die awfully easily, don't they?"

"Asuka, you know it's bad luck to talk about death in a sick room."

* * *

_Three days_, Johan thought slowly. All his thoughts ran as thickly and as slowly as blood or honey. _I must wake up._

But he couldn't.

The dreams held him, one after the other, a river of images that bore him along like a leaf caught in a current. He saw his parents sleeping in the branches of two ash trees, inches away from each other, but not able to touch. He saw Madame Meredet standing covered in vines, eyes glowing with green light. An older version of Judai dancing with lightning flickering around him, a much older Asuka naked with her whip tied around her, Ruby with cuts on her throat and wrists, an older Jim in red tinkering with a mechanical horse. Judai and his brothers—Perseus, Hercules, and Argus (all of whom looked similar to him, just with different hair colors and slightly different styles)—dancing in black Goth clothes during a lightning storm. Lightning flickered, exploding and burning. Lightning up the sky.

* * *

He must've woken up several times, but what he heard and saw made no sense, so he just passed out again each time. He remembered lying on a soft bed, hearing someone moving in the room around him. He saw it was Judai, when he came to. The demigod was dancing in a circle at the foot of the bed, chanting something in a foreign language—Johan imagined it was Greek. When he saw Johan's eyes open, he asked, "Are you finally awake?"

Johan managed, "Huh?"

Judai looked around, as if afraid someone was going to walk in on them. "You were moaning in your sleep. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm sorry," Johan whispered. "I don't…"

Someone knocked on the door and Judai quickly grabbed for his pocket and whirled, snarling. The voice called from the door: "Want me to get Samejima to mix him some more medicine?"

Judai shook his head. "No thanks, Jim."

The next time Johan woke up, Judai was gone.

A husky blond boy stood in the corner of the room keeping an eye on Johan—and that wasn't going to be too hard. He had blue eyes—at least twenty of them—on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands, etc.

* * *

"I told you it was the same boy."

"I know. Little thing, isn't he? Judai said he killed Minos."

"Yeah. I thought he was a nymph the first time we saw him. He's certainly pretty enough to be a nymph, though."

"Well, he doesn't look too good with Minos's venom coursing through his veins. Is Samejima contacting Apollo and his medicine boys?"

"I hope not. They give me the creeps. They're always so—so _peppy_!"

"Yeah. Hey, where's Judai? He saved him, didn't he? I'd have thought he'd take some interest in his recovery."

"Samejima said he's been in here every hour on the hour since he brought him here. Judai's probably either training or sleeping. I guess even he needs a break, right? Sometimes I wonder if he—Oh, look~ He moved!"

"I guess he's alive after all." A chuckle. "I'll go tell Samejima."

* * *

Johan's eyelids felt as if they'd been sewed shut. He imagined he could feel tearing skin as he peeled them slowly open and blinked for the first time in three days.

He saw clear blue sky above him, lightning dancing across the sky. _Am I dead?_ he wondered. _Could Heaven really look like this?_ He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again: This time he realized that he was staring at was an arched glass ceiling, showcasing the lightning storm that danced outside. Johan glanced out the window and saw that there was no lightning—the ceiling continued to flicker with light.

Painfully he began to haul himself into a sitting position. Every part of him ached, especially the back of his neck. He glanced around. He was tucked into a linen-sheeted bed, one of a long row of similar beds with metal headboards. His bed had a small nightstand beside it with a white pitcher and cup on it. Lace curtains were pulled away from the windows, and Johan could hear the faint ever-present street and traffic sounds coming from outside.

"So, you're finally awake," said a dry voice. "Samejima will be pleased. We all thought you'd die in your sleep."

Johan turned. Asuka was perched on the next bed, her long blond hair wound into a thick braid that fell to her chest. Her blue dress had been replaced by jeans and a tight pink tank top, though the pendant still winked at her throat. Her bracelet and whip were gone; her skin was as unblemished as the surface of a bowl of cream.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Johan's voice was raspy.

"I'm not," said Asuka, "disappointed."

"Is this the camp?" Johan asked, glancing around.

Asuka rolled her eyes. "Judai told you a lot, didn't he? Yes, this is the infirmary, not that you haven't already figured that out."

A sudden, stabbing pain made Johan clutch at his stomach. He gasped.

Asuka looked at him in alarm. "Gods, are you all right?"

The pain was fading, but Johan became aware of an acid feeling in the back of his throat and a strange light-headedness. "M-my stomach," he moaned softly.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot." Asuka grabbed for the ceramic pitcher and poured some of its contents into the matching cup, which she then handed to Johan. "Samejima said to give you this when you woke up." It was full of cloudy liquid that steamed slightly. It smelled of herbs and something else, something rich and dark. "You haven't eaten in three days," Asuka pointed out. "It's no wonder you feel so sick."

Johan gingerly took a sip. It was delicious, rich and satisfying. "What is it?"

Asuka shrugged. "One of Samejima's potions. They always work." She slid off the bed, landing on the floor with a cat-like arch of her back. "I'm Asuka Tenjoin, by the way. I live here."

"I know your name. I'm Johan. Johan Andersen. Did Judai bring me here?"

Asuka nodded. "Samejima was furious. You got _ichor_ and blood all over the carpet in the entryway. If he'd done it while the other demigods were around, he'd have gotten in trouble for sure." She looked at Johan more narrowly. "Judai said you killed Minos all by yourself."

A quick image of the scorpion-snake thing with its crabbed, evil face flashed through Johan's mind; he shuddered and clutched the cup more tightly. "I guess I did."

"But you're a human."

"Amazing, huh?" Johan said, savoring the look of thinly disguised amazement on Asuka's face. "Where is Judai? Is he around?"

Asuka shrugged. "He's somewhere," she said. "Either training or sleeping, I imagine. I'd bet my money on the sleep—he doesn't get nearly as much of it as he should. I should go tell everyone that you're up. Samejima'll want to speak to you. We've been waiting for you to open your eyes for three days."

"Samejima is the counselor, right?"

"Yup." She pointed. "The bathroom's through there, and I hung some of Judai's old clothes on the towel rack in case you want to change."

Johan went to take another sip from the cup and found that it was empty. He no longer felt hungry or light-headed either, which was a relief. He set the cup down and hugged the sheet around his body. "What happened to _my_ clothes?"

"They were covered in blood and poison, so Judai charred them."

"Did he now?" Johan asked. "Tell me, is he always this impulsive?"

"Oh, he's the son of the Lightning god," said Asuka airily. "That's what makes him so damn sexy. That, and the fact that he's killed more monsters than any of his brothers before him, and he's only a fraction of their age."

Johan looked at her, perplexed. "Isn't he your _brother_?"

That got Asuka's attention. She laughed out loud. "Judai? My brother? Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well, all gods are connected, right?" Johan asked.

Her shoulders slumped; she sighed. "In a sense," Asuka murmured. "All gods have some sort of connection, be it sibling, children, or distant cousins. But demigods have no DNA relationship with other demigods who don't share their godly parent. Make sense? For example: a child of Zeus and a child of Poseidon can date, even if technically they share the same DNA. Godly DNA doesn't really count, and even if it did, incest was a common Greek practice, so no one even cares."

"I see," Johan said, a bit shaken up by the wave of information.

Asuka got to her feet. "Look, I'd better let everyone know you've woken up. They've been waiting for you to open your eyes for three days, as you already know. Oh, and there's soap in the bathroom," she added. "You might want to clean up a little. You stink."

Johan glared at him. "Thanks."

"Any time."

* * *

Judai's clothes looked ridiculous. Johan had to roll the legs on the jeans up several times before he stopped tripping on them, and the Gothic straps of the top were not easy to figure out how to get in and out of. Before he knew it, Johan was tangled in a heap of spidery black tangles, a blush of embarrassment slapped right on his face.

He cleaned up in the small bathroom, using a bar of hard lavender soap. Drying himself with a white hand towel left damp hair straggling around his face in fragrant tangles. He squinted at his reflection in the mirror. There was a purplish bruise high up on his left cheek, and his lips were dry and cracked.

_I have to find Judai_, he thought. Surely he must be around here somewhere.

He found his boots placed neatly at the foot of his infirmary bed, his keys plopped inside. Sliding his feet into them, he took a deep breath and left to find Judai or Asuka.

The corridor outside the infirmary was empty. Johan glanced down it, perplexed. It looked like the sort of hallway he sometimes found himself racing down in nightmares, shadowy and infinite. Glass lamps blown into the shapes of roses hung at intervals on the wall, and the air smelled like dust and candle wax and the ever-present smell of a rapidly-approaching storm.

In the distance he could hear a faint and delicate noise, like a wind chime being rattled by fierce winds.

He set off down the hallway slowly, trailing a hand on the wall. The Victorian-looking wallpaper was faded with age, burgundy and white. Each side of the corridor was lined with closed doors. Each door was a different color—lightning blue, ivory, red, sky blue, gold, silver, aqua blue, black, orange, dark red-brown, pale purple, pale red/pink, green, and dark grape purple. Each door was grouped into a section where all the doors were the same color, and Johan knew they must've meant something. _Maybe it's like a dorm room_, he thought, _and you have to stay in the group with a certain color_.

Turning the corner, he came to a doorway, the door propped fully open. Peering inside, he saw what was clearly a temple. A large statue of a man who looked strangely like Judai stood in one corner, marble eyes peering out at the world while the stone hand lifted a lightning bolt high into the air, looking for someone to strike down.

Judai was dancing at the base of the statue. He had a sword in hand, and his movements were graceful and frightening; Johan knew no human could do such moves.

He was barefoot, dressed in faded black jeans and a gray T-shirt, his brown hair ruffled up around his head as if he'd just woken up. Johan remembered how Judai had carried him, and the sword clutched in them glistened with electricity.

He must've made some noise, because Judai stopped dancing and twisted, blinking into shadow. "Jim?" he said. "Is that you?"

"It's not Jim. It's me." Johan stepped farther into the temple room. "Johan."

The sword landed on the floor softly when Judai placed it there. "Ah, yes. Our very own Sleeping Beauty. Who finally kissed you awake, hm?" He was smiling like an idiot—Johan could feel himself blushing.

"No one. I woke up on my own."

"Was there anyone with you at the time?"

"Asuka, but she went off to get someone—Samejima, I think. She told me to wait, but—"

Judai chuckled. "I should've warned her about your amazing little habit of never doing what you're told." He squinted at Johan. "Are those... Are those my old clothes? They look good on you."

Johan felt the blush, but tried to ignore it. "I could point out that _someone_ burned _my_ clothes."

"That was purely precautionary." Judai kicked the sword behind the statue of the man. He glared at it from the corner of his eye—Johan could smell the storm even more now—and stepped forward. "Come on. I'll take you to Samejima."

* * *

The camp was huge, a vast cavernous space that looked less like it had been designed according to a floor plan and more like it had been naturally hollowed out of rock by the passage of water and years. Through half-open doors Johan glimpsed countless rooms, each one different than the next, though each colored door had something about its room that was similar to a door of the same color. No two different colored doors had something in common with another different colored door.

"Why does this place have so many bedrooms?" Johan asked.

"We house demigods here," Judai responded. "Mostly, it's during the summer, but other times, we have year-rounders who say 24/7."

"But most of the rooms are empty."

"Everyone's outside—training, playing, eating, etc."

"Oh."

After a silent moment, Johan asked, "Are _you_ a year-rounder?"

Judai smiled, a bit bitterly. "I have to be. Someone has to make sure all the demigods get here safe." He cast a glare in the direction of a strange green door. "Even if their mother is a vicious little bitch." His expression darkened slightly, just as the sky did before a storm. "Besides, I have no where else to go."

Johan frowned. "What about Asuka and Jim? Are they year-rounders?"

"Yeah. Well, Jim is—Asuka often goes with her brother to the demigod home country. He's, um, a sort of foreign diplomat, if you will. He sends messages to the camp in Greece when an Iris message won't work."

"Iris?"

"Goddess of the rainbow. Instant messaging, demigod style." Judai grinned wide.

"How many demigods are here?" Johan asked.

Judai had to think about that one. "Roughly one hundred, give or take a few. There's not many who make it safely to the camp—I've seen so many die on the way here, we just learn to expect that. It's a miracle if they make it here." He glared again at another green door as they passed. "At times," he whispered bitterly, "I wish _some_ of them _hadn't_ made it."

Johan glanced at the same green door. "The colors are...?"

"They represent which parent you have," he said. "We don't need this many rooms, but we have them. Most of the gods have at least ten kids here—most of them have a few more than that—so the rooms are needed, I guess. But we have so many of them. I mean, Zeus alone must have at least twenty rooms lines up for him, and each one's big enough to hold five kids." He frowned, sudden solemn. "But I'm the only one. There's no other child of Zeus is the camp, maybe even in the world. I—" He broke off. "This is the library."

They had reached an arch-shaped set of wooden doors. A brown Persian cat with golden eyes lay curled in front of them. It raised its head as they approached and yowled. "Hey, Midiena," Judai said stroking the cat's back with a bare foot. The cat slit its eyes in pleasure.

"Wait," Johan said softly. "Jim, Asuka, and the others—they all have a different godly parent than you, right? But they have other siblings here with the same godly parent?"

Judai stopped stroking the cat. "Yes."

"Don't you ever get lonely?"

Judai pushed the door opens. "I have all I need to survive. That's good enough for me." After a moment's hesitation, Johan followed him inside.

* * *

The library as circular, with a ceiling that tapered to a point, as if it had been built inside a tower. The walls were lined with books, the shelves so high that tall ladders set on casters were placed along them at intervals. These were no ordinary books either—these were books bound in velvet and leather, clasped with sturdy-looking locks and hinges made of brass and silver. Their spines were studded with dully glowing jewels and illuminated with gold script. They looked worn in a way that made it clear these books were not just old but were well-used, and had been loved for a very long time.

The floor was polished wood, inlaid with chips of glass and marble and bits of semiprecious stone. The inlay formed a pattern Johan couldn't quite decipher—it might have been the constellations or maybe a map of the world; he suspected he'd have to climb up into the tower and look down in order to see it properly.

In the center of the desk sat a magnificent desk. It was carved from a single slab of wood, a great, heavy piece of oak that gleamed with the dull shine of years. The slab rested upon the backs of two monsters, carved from the same wood, their faces engraved with a look of suffering, as if the weight of the slab were breaking their backs. Behind the desk sat a fat bald man with shimmering eyes and a wide, friendly smile.

"A book lover, I see," he said, smiling at Johan. "You didn't mention that, Judai."

Judai chuckled. Johan could tell that he had come up behind him and was standing with his hands at his sides, grinning that alluring grin of his that Johan wondered had come from his father. "We haven't done much talking during our short acquaintance," he said. "I'm afraid our reading habits didn't come up."

"How could you tell?" Johan asked the man behind the desk. "That I like books?"

"The look on your face when you came in," he said, standing up and coming around from behind the desk. "I doubt you were that impressed by me—though you might be in a moment."

Johan stifled a gasp as he rose. From the wait up, the man appeared to be totally human. But from the waist down, his body was that of a gray horse, thick and strong and powerful. Where the horse's neck would've been rose the torso and upper body of the man. The tail of the horse body flicked behind the man.

"I am Samejima," said the horse-man, still smiling.

Johan, still in shock, laughed a little and shook his outstretched hand. "Johan Andersen."

"Honored to make your acquaintance," said Samejima. "I'd be honored to make the acquaintance of anyone who could kill King Minos with their bare hands."

"It wasn't my bare hands." It felt strange to be complimented on killing something. "I had this seed that grew from from my hand, the thing swallowed it, and I—"

"A seed?" Samejima hummed in thought. "Could you be a child of Demeter, perhaps?"

Johan was about to speak, but Judai shrieked, "No!" He grabbed something off the desk and hurled it across the room. Johan flinched at the sound of the crash, the idea of something harming these precious books. "No fucking way is he a child of that bitch! I'll have nothing to do with a child of her! Nothing, you hear me?"

"Judai, calm yourself," Samejima warned.

Johan was confused. "I don't understand," he said to Samejima. "What's so bad about Demeter?"

Samejima opened his mouth to answer, but again, Judai intervened. "You're lucky not to know her. She's a _monster_, Johan. A cold blooded killer who cares for no one except herself!"

"Judai," said Samejima under his breath, fierce and strong. "You shouldn't say such things—"

"Oh, stop whispering!" Judai snapped. "I don't care if she does hear me!"

"I understand," said the horse-man quickly. "I understand how you feel, but murderer or not, Demeter is still and Olympian, and—"

"That bitch doesn't deserve to be considered a D-list _monster_, let alone an Olympian!" Judai's eyes flashed gold, he was so angry. Johan could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. "Do you know what she did? All the demigods she killed! Just because she was looking for her stupid Seed, which hasn't appeared in centuries and will _never_ appear! We lost _twenty-nine_of the demigods coming in because of her! Twenty-nine kids, Samejima! And you're going to stand here, house her children—who are just as evil as her, I might add—and defend her? I don't care if she's an Olympian! Demeter can go fuck herself!"

"Judai Yuki!" Samejima gasped.

Before Johan could say anything, a sharp laugh sounded through the room. Johan had been so enraptured by the books and distracted by the fact that Samejima was half-horse (Johan remembered, when his shock was over, that Samejima's kind were called centaurs) that he hadn't seen the boy sprawled in an overstuffed red armchair by the empty fireplace. "I can't believe you just had the balls to insult my mother in front of me, Yuki. I give you points for bravery." The boy turned to look at Samejima. "And you—I can't believe you buy that story, Samejima."

At first Johan didn't register his words. He was too busy staring at the boy. He had false blond hair—it had obviously been bleached and dyed many times—slender white eyebrows, and his eyes shone with the color of rotting grass, dark green and vicious. They stared at Johan with a hostility as pure and concentrated as acid.

"I'm not quite sure I know what you mean, Ike." Samejima raised a thick bushy eyebrow. Johan wondered how old he was; there was a sort of agelessness about him, despite the wrinkles and the bald head. He wore a neat burgandy jacket, perfectly pressed. He would've looked like a kindly college teacher if it hadn't been for the giant gray-white horse's body underneath him. "Ike, are you suggesting that Johan didn't kill King Minos after all?"

"Of course he didn't. Look at him—he's a mortal, Samejima, and a kid at that! There's no way he took on Minos."

"I'm not a kid!" Johan interrupted. "I'm seventeen years old—well, I will be in three days."

"The same age as some of our most well-trained demigods," Samejima said. "Would you call them children?"

"They hail from the greatest beings in history; the gods," Ike said dryly. "This boy, on the other hand, hails from Tokyo."

"I'm from Domino!" Johan was outraged—he could see what Judai meant about Demeter's children being evil. "And so what? I just killed a monster in my own house, and your going to be a dickhead about it because I'm not some spoiled-rotten godly brat like you are?"

Ike looked astonished. "What did you call me?"

Judai burst out laughing. "He has a point, Ike," he said.

"It's not funny, Yuki!" snapped Ike, starting to his feet. "Are you going to stand there and let a mortal insult a demigod?"

"Yes," Judai said kindly. "You, and the rest of your siblings for that matter, need a good kick in the pants. You're all so high up on your altar that you forget that your mother isn't the greatest goddess out there."

"Your flippancy is wearing on my patience," spat Ike.

"And your obstinacy is wearing on mine. When I found him, he was lying on the floor in a pool of blood with a dying King Minos practically on top of him. I watched as it vanished when I struck it with a bit of lightning before it fired its last shot. But my lightning wouldn't have killed it right off like it had if he hadn't done something to it first. The thing was half-dead by the time I got there. If Johan didn't kill it, then who did?"

"Minos is stupid," said Ike tightly. "Maybe he—"

"You just can't stand the fact that there's a slight possibility of Johan being a member of your little family." Johan saw Judai's fierce expression, and he knew what it meant: _And neither can I_.

Ike's mouth tightened. "It isn't right for him to be here. Mortals aren't allowed inside the camp."

"That's not entirely true," Samejima said. "The Law does allow us to offer sanctuary to mortals in certain circumstances. King Minos has already attacked Johan's parents—he could well have been next."

_Attacked_. Johan wondered if this was a euphemism for "murdered".

"Minos is the judge of the Damned," Ike said. "But he can also be used as a search-and-capture machine. He acts under orders from a warlock, witch, or a god or goddess. Now, what interest would any of these things have in an ordinary mortal household?" His eyes when he looked at Johan were bright with dislike. "Any thoughts?"

Johan said, "It could have been a mistake."

"Monsters don't make those kinds of mistakes. If they went after your parents, there must've been some reason. If they were innocent—"

"What do you mean, 'innocent'?" Johan's voice had gone quiet.

Ike looked taken aback. "I—"

"What he means," said Samejima, "is that it is extremely unusual for a powerful monster, the kind who might command a host of lesser monsters, to interest themselves in the affairs of normal human beings. No mortal may summon a true monster—they lack the power—but if they could get a warlock to do it for them, they could do it. Some mortals exist who are desperate enough to enlist the help of a demigod. Demigods can summon monsters, but they are inexperienced, and it often backfires."

"My parents don't know any warlocks or witches. They don't believe in mythology."

"Watch what you say," warned Ike viciously. "They aren't mythology."

A thought occurred to Johan. "Madame Meredet—she lives downstairs from us. She's a witch. Maybe she summoned a monster and it went for her and got my parents by mistake?"

Samejima's eyes shot up high. "A witch lives downstairs from you?"

"She's a hedge-witch—a fake," Judai said. "I looked into it. There's no reason for any warlock or monster to be interested in her."

The centaur threw his hands up. "Then we are back to where he started." He stole a quick glance at Johan, who kept staring down at his boots, trying not to cry over what he thought must have become of his parents. _I will not cry_, he thought. _Not now_. "I think I'd like to have a talk with Johan," said Samejima. "Alone," he added firmly, seeing Judai's expression.

Ike stood up. "Fine. I'm out of here."

"That's hardly fair," Judai objected. "I'm the one who found him. I'm the one who saved his life! You want me here, don't you?" he appealed, turning to face Johan.

Johan glanced up at him, wanting to speak, but knowing that he'd cry if he did so. _Yes_, he thought. _I want you here_. He didn't quite know why, but he wanted Judai close. He felt safe around the child of the Lightning god. As if from a distance, he heard Ike laugh nastily.

"Not everyone wants you, Yuki," he said viciously. "Not even your own father."

Johan stared at Judai, expecting him to blow up and attack Ike, but he just stared ahead as if Ike had said nothing.

"Fine then," Judai said, though he sounded disappointed. "I'll be in the armory."

Ike left before Judai, slamming the door shut. Judai stole a look at Johan, his eyes flickering with electricity, and then the door closed behind him with a definitive click. Johan's eyes were stinging the way they did when he tried to hold back tears for too long. Samejima loomed over him, a kind and tender presence, despite the huge appearance. "Sit down," he said. "Here, on the couch."

Johan sank gratefully onto the soft cushions. He reached up to brush the tears away, blinking. "I don't cry that often," he found himself saying. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"Most people cry when they are frustrated," said Samejima. "Your frustration is understandable. You've been through a trying time."

"You could say that." Johan wiped his eyes with the hem of his borrowed shirt.

Samejima knelt down slightly so that he was eye-level with Johan. It was better than having him loom over him. "Is there anything I could get for you?" he asked. "Something to drink, perhaps?"

"No thanks," Johan said, his voice muffled by his arm. "I want to find my parents. And then I want to find out who took them in the first place and kill them."

"Unfortunately," said Samejima with a laugh, "we're all out of bitter revenge right now."

Johan dropped the hem of the shirt—now splotted with wet blotches from his tears—and said, "What am I supposed to do?"

"You could start by tellingme a little bit about what happened," said Samejima, rummaging through his pocket. He produced a handkerchief, crisply folded, and handed it to Johan. He took it with silent astonishment. He'd never known anyone who carried a handkerchief. "The monster you saw in your apartment—was that the first creature like that you'd ever seen? You had no inkling such creatures existed before?"

Johan shook his head, then paused. "One before, but I didn't realize what it was. The first time I saw Judai—"

"Right, of course, how foolish of me to forget." Samejima nodded. "That was the first time?"

"Yes."

"And your parents never mentioned them to you—nothing about another world, perhaps, that most people cannot see? Did they seem particularly interested in myths, fairy tales, legends of the fantastic, mythology—"

"No, not really." Johan paused again. "They had an interest in nymphs. My parents were sculptors, and they loved to make nymphs."

"Most peculiar," murmured Samejima.

"Not really." Johan drew his knees to his chin and wrapped his arms around them. "My parents were the most normal people in the world."

"Normal people don't generally find their homes ransacked by monsters," said Samejima, not unkindly.

"Couldn't it have been a mistake?"

"If it had been a mistake," said Samejima, "and you were an ordinary boy, you would not have seen the monster that attacked you—or if you had, your mind would have processed it as something else entirely: a vicious dog, even another human being. That you could see it, that it spoke to you—"

"How did you know it spoke to me?"

"Judai reported you saying, 'It talked.'"

"It hissed." Johan shivered, remembering. "It talked about coming to find me, and something about a mistress and her orders."

Samejima jerked upright, so abruptly that his legs popped at the knees. Johan flinched at the sound—Samejima didn't seem to notice. "Did you say it came looking specifically for _you_?"

Johan nodded. "Yes."

He waited a moment, feeling his head throbbing, and then he asked, "Would it be possible for me to go home?"

Samejima looked concerned. "I don't think that would be wise."

"Please, I—" Johan glanced down at his boots again, not wanting Samejima to see him tearing up. "I have to see if there's anything left that will tell me what became of my parents."

Samejima hesitated, and then offered a short, inverted nod. "If Judai agrees to it, you may both go." He turned away. "Give it until tomorrow, and then go check it out. Until then, have Judai show you around the camp. You may find you like it here. Judai's in the armory."

"I don't know where that is."

Samejima smiled crookedly. "Midiena will take you."

Johan glanced toward the door where the fat brown Persian was curled up like a small ottoman. He rose as Johan came forward, fur rippling like liquid. With an imperious meow he led Johan into the hall. When Johan glanced back, he saw Samejima already scribbling on a piece of paper. He closed his eyes and followed the cat through the strange halls in search of Judai.

* * *

Me: All right, guys! Johan's learning more and more about the demigods, and we have a small idea about Demeter and why Judai hates her! And we have seen a mean person named Ike, who is one of Demeter's demigod sons.

Lucy: But what will happen in the next chapter?

Me: Read on to find out! Please review, too! We love getting many, many reviews from you guys!


	5. The Cage of Demigods

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (spiritshipping); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

Me: Here's the next chapter of the story, guys!

Lucy: Johan has awakened after three long days from being poisoned by the demon Minos, met the demigod Ike, and has learned just a bit more about Judai. But what is the camp like, and what will happen to poor Johan? What happened to his parents?

Me: And what will happen to him and Judai?

Lucy: Read to find out!

**Chapter Five: The Cage of Demigods**

The weapons & armory room looked exactly like something called "the weapons room" sounded like it would look. Brushed metal walls were hung with every manner of sword, dagger, spike, featherstaff, bayonet, whip, mace, hook, and bow. Soft leather bags filled with arrows dangled from hooks, and there were stacks of breastplates, helmets, boots, leg guards, and gauntlets for wrists and arms. The room smelled like metal and leather and steel polish. Ike and Judai stood on either end of the armory, as far apart as they could get from one another, rummaging through weapons. Johan secretly hoped that they didn't seek to off each other in the weapon's room. Judai looked up when he heard Johan enter. "Hey, Jo," he said. "Where's Samejima?"

"Writing to Apollo, I think."

"Gross," Ike shuddered.

Johan approached Judai slowly, cautious of Ike's evil gaze. "What are you looking for?"

"Another spear." Judai patted his pocket. "Can't use mine too often—the electricity will run out if I keep it up."

"If you'd learn not to blast everything that mentioned my mother's name," Ike snapped angrily, finally glancing over his shoulder to look at something beside his weapons, "then maybe your 'precious wittle spear' would hold a charge, Yuki."

"Yeah. But where's the fun in that?"

"Listen you—"

Johan decided to intervene before a fight broke out that he would get caught in the middle of. "So," he said to Judai, "how did you get your spear? How was it made? Magic?"

Ike stared at him as if he'd suggested that the sky were orange. Judai grinned and said, "Funny thing about mortals is that they assume all things they can't understand come from magic. In a way, yes, they did come from a sort of magic, but not the kind you'd think. My father gave me this when I was little." His expression turned dark as he patted the pocket of his black jeans. "It's the only present I ever got from him. Most parents send their kids T-shirts or books. Nope, my dad sends me a spear."

"I think it's cool," Johan said.

Judai smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but Ike chimed in and said, "Of course you do, Mortal. You'd think a talking goldfish were cool if you ever saw one."

Johan whirled on him. "I never said anything about goldfish, you—"

Judai waved a hand, cutting Johan off and addressing Ike. "Just because you call an electric eel a rubber duck doesn't make it a rubber duck, does it? And Zeus help the poor bastard who decides that they want to take a bath with the duckie."

"Oh, shut up, Yuki!" snarled Ike. "Stop quoting Mortal Instruments!"

Judai shrugged, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "What can I say? Cassandra Clare's a niece."

"Is she?" Johan asked.

"Mm. Child of Apollo."

Johan wanted to know more about the people Judai was related to, but he decided to speak about it some other time, when Ike wasn't around. He found that he was starting to hate the child of Demeter more and more, and he could see why Judai hated him, too. But, not wanting to get into a fight, he changed the subject. He turned to Judai. "Samejima said I could go home tomorrow."

Judai and Ike nearly dropped whatever weapons they were holding. "He said what?" Judai gasped.

"To look through my parents' things," Johan said. "If you go with me."

Judai pursed his lips, but said nothing.

"If you really want to find out why Minos came after me, we should look through whatever's left of my parents' things."

"Down the rabbit hole." Judai grinned crookedly. "Good idea. I'll take you tomorrow."

Judai took Johan's hand and brought him out of the armory. The look Ike shot him was as cold as poison, and Johan was happy when the door closed and cut him off. The hall widened into a dome, filled with gold plates and marble columns, and only when Judai pressed a button did he realize that it was an elevator. It creaked and groaned as it rose to meet them. "Judai?" Johan murmured softly, the whirring of the gears working the pipes up echoing in his ears.

"Yeah?"

"If my parents are...you know..."

"Mm?"

"Then what will I do?"

The elevator arrived with a final groan. Judai unlatched the gate and slid it open. The inside reminded Johan of a birdcage, all black metal and decorative bits of gilt. "Then you'd stay here, of course," Judai said, latching the gate behind them. He pressed a button, and the elevator lurched into action with a vibrating groan that Johan felt all the way through the bones in his feet. "I've always wanted a little brother," Judai said with a reassuring smile.

They rode the rest of the way down to the bottom level in silence.

Once the elevator opened, Johan found himself on a massive porch that must have belonged to the giant building they had just been in. Judai didn't speak as he strode to the rounded area of the porch, heading to the front of the camp, Johan imagined. He had to jog to catch up with Judai's fast-paced strides.

As they came around the opposite end of the large building, Johan caught his breath.

They must've been on the north shore of Domino, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile into the distance. Between here and there, Johan just couldn't process what he was seeing.

The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture—an open-air amphitheater, a circular arena—all of which looked brand new, their white columns glittering in the sunlight. In a nearby sand pit, a group of teenagers and creatures Johan recognized immediately as satyrs played volleyball together. Long canoes slid across the clear lake surface. Kids in shirts, a vast array of different colors, like the doors Johan had seen inside the house, were chasing each other around a cluster of smaller buildings in the distance. Some shot arrows at targets, and others rode horses, and unless Johan was still hallucinating, those horses had wings.

"Feels great to be outside again," Judai smiled. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, I'd forgotten what the sun felt like. Now, Johan, let's go meet the other demigods, shall we?"

* * *

Once he got over the initial shock that there were so many demigods in one area, they had a nice tour, though Johan still felt a little uneasy.

They passed the volleyball pit. Several of the demigods nudged each other. One pointed at Johan and whispered, "That's _him_."

Most of the demigods were younger than he was, by three years or so. Their satyr friends were a lot taller than Judai, all of them trotting around in snow-white T-shirts, with nothing to hide their furry lower halves. He wasn't normally shy, but the way they stared at him made Johan feel uncomfortable. He felt like they were expecting him to do a flip or something.

He looked back at the giant house he had come from. It was a lot bigger than he'd realized—four stories tall, smoke blue with black trim, like an upscale seaside resort. Johan was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught his eye, a shadow moving across one of the closed windows. He had the unsettled feeling that he was being watched.

"Who's up there?" he asked Judai.

He looked to where Johan was pointing and his smile faded. "No one. Just the attic. Not a single living thing is up there."

Johan got the feeling he was being truthful, but he could've sworn he had seen something up there.

"Come on, Johan," said Judai, his lighthearted tone a bit forced. "There is much to see, remember?"

* * *

Something occurred to him while they were walking around the camp. Judai warbled on about the demigods' daily activities and about a few of the demigods Johan would need to watch out for—Ike and his siblings were included in that group.

But Johan didn't pay attention—he kept on wondering about his mother and father, and what had happened.

"Judai," Johan said. "If the gods and Olympus are real…"

"Yes?"

"Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

The son of Zeus's expression darkened. "Yes, Johan," he answered. He paused, as if searching for the right words. "There is a place where spirits go after death, but... I wouldn't worry about it right now until we know more."

"Until we know more what?"

Judai shook his head, ignoring the question. "Come on. Let's look for Jim."

* * *

The tall Aussie with the cowboy hat that Johan had seen at the Domino Club was reading a book in front of the giant house Johan and Judai had just come from. When they reached him, the Aussie looked at Johan with a strange calculating expression. Johan tried to see what he was reading, but it looked like Greek to him. Then he realized that it _was_ Greek; a book on mechanics.

"Hey, Jim," said Juda, his tone friendly and upbeat. "What'cha reading?"

"_Your Tools and You_, by Alicia Hofferson."

"Nice," said Judai with a grin. "Your father send it to you?"

"My sister, actually," said Jim with the same grin. "Alicia Hofferson is a child of Hephaestus, so she sends all of us copies of her books and has us read them to look for errors in calculations she might have made."

"No kidding?" Judai laughed and nudged Johan forward. "Well, Jim, you know our little Sleeping Beauty, right? I have some business to tend to this evening, so would you mind keeping him safe and sound in your room?"

Johan started to protest, but Jim said, "Sure."

He led them back into the house, up to a red-brown door on the far end of the building. The door was faded with age, and the number 9.1 sat on the front. Hanging off the hinges were metal wires, and glued to the door were wrenches and other tools. "My dorm," Jim said when he caught Johan staring, mouth agape.

Johan closed his mouth and blushed.

Inside the room were three or four of the biggest kids Johan had ever seen. They looked gruff and mean—covered in scratches, old scars, soot, and other various injuries. They were a burly bunch, muscly and thick, even the girls. Judai didn't go in; he stood at the door with a stern expression on his face. But the demigods in the room all stood and bowed respectfully when they saw him.

"Well, then," said Judai. "Good luck, Johan. I'll see you at dinner. Bye."

He turned and headed away from the group.

Johan stood in the doorway, looking at the other kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at him, sizing him up. Johan knew this routine. He'd gone through enough years at school to know what they were doing.

"Well?" Jim prompted. "Come in."

So naturally, Johan tripped coming through the doorway and made a total fool of himself. A thick boy laughed somewhere in the back, but no one said anything.

Jim announced, "Johan Andersen, meet dorm nine."

A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Welcome, Johan. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there." The guy was about eighteen—older than Johan by almost a year—and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with dark skin and long black hair. He wore a dark crimson sleeveless shirt and leather boots. He had countless tools attached to various different belts on his body. The only thing unsettling about him was the small scar under his left eye that cut in a jagged line down the side of his face.

"This is O'Brien," said Jim, his voice sounding like how someone introduced a brother. Johan glanced over and saw Jim grinning proudly. When Jim saw him staring, he just grinned even wider. "He's the second in command, for now."

"For now?" asked Johan.

"Death is always a possiblity," explained O'Brien carefully and patiently. "For example, Jim is the counselor, _for now_. If he dies, I get the job. If I die, the position goes to the third in command, and so on and so forth. Such is the life of a demigod."

Feeling uncomfortable about the idea of death, especially after what he thought had happened to his parents, Johan looked at the tiny space on the floor they'd given him. He had nothing to put there to mark it as his own, no luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag.

"How long will I be here?" he asked.

"Depends," said O'Brien.

"That's helpful," Johan sighed. He closed his eyes, feeling a headache starting.

"Come on," said Jim, taking Johan by the hand and leading him out of the room. "I'll show you the rest of the camp."

* * *

Jim showed him a few more places: the metal shop (where kids who looked similar to Jim and his other siblings were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sand-blasting a statue of a tall goat-man), and the climbing wall, which consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and crushed shut if you didn't make it across in time.

Finally, they returned to the canoeing lake, where a trail led to the cabins.

"Dinner's at seven-thirty," said Jim. "We'd better get back before we're late for the horn."

"Jim, thanks for showing me around."

"Don't mention it."

"No, seriously. Thanks for everything."

Jim looked at him skeptically, as if trying to figure out whether or not he was lying. It didn't seem possible that Johan would lie, but then again, he was in so much shock, he imagined it would seem possible that he was losing his mind.

Johan stared at the lake, wondering what had become of his parents.

Johan wasn't expecting anyone to be looking back, but there were two girls sitting in an ash tree under the water. It took Johan a moment to realize that they were a reflection. He looked and saw two teenage girls sitting in the tree above him, twenty feet up. They wore shimmering jeans and white T-shirts, and they had long gray hair that danced in a breeze that didn't exist. They looked down and waved at Johan as if he were a long-lost friend.

He didn't know what else to do. He waved back.

"Don't encourage them," Jim scolded. "Nymphs are terrible flirts."

"Nymphs," Johan repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed as Jim led him back toward the large building. "That does it. I wanna go home now."

* * *

Back at Jim's dorm room, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting for dinner. For the first time, Johan noticed that all of them had similar features: dark hair, muscly bodies, stern expressions, scars. They were the kinds of kids that teachers would instantly peg as trouble-makers and thugs. Thankfully, no one paid attention to him as he walked inside and plopped down on his spot in the center of the room.

The second in command, O'Brien, came over. He had the Hephaestus family resemblance, too. It was marred by the small scar, but his smile was in tact.

"Found you a sleeping bag," he said. "And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store."

Johan said, "Thanks."

"No prob." O'Brien sat down beside him, back against the wall. "Tough first day?"

"I don't belong here," Johan said. "I'm not a demigod."

"Yeah," O'Brien murmured. "I know what you mean. I mean, I've never been human, so I don't know that, but I know how it feels to think that everything you believed in is a lie. I know how that feels, Johan; believe me, I do." Johan had no problem believing that: he'd freak out too if he learned that one of his parents were a god.

"So, your dad is Hephaestus?" Johan asked.

O'Brien pulled a blade out of his pocket, and for a second Johan thought he was going to stab him, but he just used it to scrape some mud off the bottom of his shoe. "Hephaestus. Yeah."

"Kid of Zeus and Hera, right?"

"That's him. God of the forge. In fact, half the things here were made by our father. He's a really nice guy, looks aside."

"You ever meet your dad?"

"Couple of times."

Johan waited, thinking that he was going to explain, but O'Brien didn't, and Johan didn't press him to.

O'Brien glanced up and smiled. "Don't worry about it, Johan. The demigods here, they're mostly good people. I mean, we're extended family, right? We take care of each other, no matter what happens. So what if you're mortal. No one here will hold that against you."

He seemed to understand how lost Johan felt, and Johan was grateful for that, because an older guy like him—even if he was a second-in-command counselor—should have steered clear of a sixteen year old mortal like Johan. But O'Brien and Jim had welcomed him into the cabin, had even stolen some things from the camp store for him, which was one of the nicest things anyone, besides Judai, Asuka, and Samejima, had done for him all day.

"It's dinner time," said O'Brien.

The moment he said it, a horn blew in the distance.

Jim called, "Nine, fall in!"

Everyone in the room filed into the hallway to join the others from the red-brown doors. There were about twenty of them. They lined up in order of seniority, so of course being the mortal that he was, Johan was dead last. Demigods came from the other rooms, too, except the doors with a 1, 2, or 3 in front of them, and doors with an eight, which had looked normal in the daytime, but now shone silver in the moonlight. Johan looked for Judai, who slipped out of a single room with a 1.1 on the front. He saw Johan and waved.

They marched down the hall toward the cafeteria inside the giant building. Satyrs joined them from the doorway. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake outside. A few others came from the woods—and they actually came straight _out_ of the woods. Johan saw one girl, about five years old, emerge from the bark of an ash tree and come running. He felt a strange connection with her.

In all, there were about one hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads.

At the cafeteria, torches blazed around marble columns. A central fire burned in the center of a bronze brazier the size of a small bathtub. Each group had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed with purple. Four of the tables were empty (except for Judai, sitting all alone at a table with the name ZEUS on it), but dorm nine's table was way overcrowded. Johan had to squeeze on the end of the bench, half of his backend hanging off the little bench.

Samejima stood at the head of a giant table in the distance.

Judai sat all alone at his table, staring at Johan with a happy expression—Johan wondered if it ever got lonely, eating all by yourself.

Finally, Samejima pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the cafeteria, and everyone fell silent. He raised his goblet. "To the gods!"

Everyone else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came in with platters of food: red grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and—_Oh!_, Johan thought, _barbeque_! His glass was empty, but Jim said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want—nonalcoholic, of course."

Johan said, "Coke."

The glass filled with sparkling brown liquid.

Johan took a cautious sip. It was perfect.

He drank a toast to his parents. _They're not gone_, he told himself.

"Here you go, Johan," O'Brien said while handing him a plateful of smoked brisket.

He loaded up his plate and was about to take a big bite when he noticed everyone getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire at the center of the pavilion. He wondered if they were going for desert or something, and he wondered, _Already?_

O'Brien stared down at him. "Watch us."

As they got closer to the fire, Johan saw that everyone except Judai was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire; the ripest strawberry, the warmest roll, the juiciest piece of meat.

O'Brien murmured in his ear before leaving, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like it."

"You're kidding," Johan said.

O'Brien approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a fistful of fat red grapes. "Hephaestus," he said.

The smoke drifted back toward Johan. When he caught a whiff of the smoke, he didn't gag. It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled like chocolate and fresh-baked cookies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, several things that shouldn't have smelt good together, but they did. Johan could almost believe that gods could live off that smoke.

When everyone had finished returning to the tables and had eaten their meals, Samejima pounded his hoof again to gain their attention.

"Greetings, demigods," said Samejima, glancing around at the tables. "I should tell you that as of today, we have a new person joining us, a mortal named Johan Andersen. Now, run along to your little campfire. Go on."

Everybody cheered. They all headed toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's children led the singing, a tall boy with long white hair singing a solo and leading them. He had a wondrous voice, and Johan found himself feeling less and less stressed the more he listened. They sang songs of the gods, and everyone sang along and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was that Johan no longer felt like an outcast. He felt like he was at home.

He searched for Judai after dinner, but he didn't see him. He felt bad, he wanted to at least say good night to him.

Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into the starry sky, the horn blew again, and the demigods all filed back to their rooms inside the big house. Johan didn't eve realize how exhausted he was until he collapsed into his borrowed sleeping bag.

His fingers curled around the hem of the warm sleeping back. He thought about his mom and dad, but they were good things: the way Joshua and Andrea hugged him when something went wrong, the way his mom would read to him when he was little, and the way his father'd tell him not to dream of fire-breathing trucks when he went to sleep.

When he closed his eyes, he fell asleep instantly.

But, as well as his first day had gone, no matter how at home he felt amongst the demigods, no matter how wonderful his thoughts were when he thought of Judai, that didn't keep the nightmares from plaguing him that evening.

* * *

Me: Wow, this day just keeps on getting worse and worse for Johan, doesn't it?

Lucy: But Judai's going to bring him home tomorrow, and we shall see what is going on! But for now, please review! We just love getting reviews from your guys!

Me: Read on to find out! Please review, too! We love getting many, many reviews from you guys!


	6. The Earthborne

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (_spiritshipping_); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

* * *

Me: Hello everyone, so sorry about the wait, but we are back now with more of the City of Demeter's Tree!

Lucy: We hope everyone enjoys it!

Me: Thank you all for bearing with us, and we hope to have this fic done by the end of this week, start of next week, if we are lucky!

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX: THE EARTHBORNE**

* * *

That night Johan had a peculiar dream.

He was on a royal barge, floating over the sea. The sun blazed overhead. Sand lined one side of the boat miles away, and the open ocean stretched as far as the eye could see on the other. Beyond that were islands dotting the surface.

The boat was like something from a painting. Its crisp white sails were emblazoned with the image of a some foreign symbol—a curvy number four, glittering in blue and gold. Orbs of multicolored light flew all around the hull, shifting shapes to spirits with no faces. The hull was inlaid with precious metals and gold designs showing the stories of Greek heroes and the gods. Symbols invoked the power of the sun above.

In the middle of the boat, there was an ornate throne. It looked to be made of molten gold, but Johan noticed that it was made of frozen lightning encased in glass. Etched into the sides were the same symbols on the sail, only glowing so white they hurt his eyes.

The throne's occupant looked exactly like Judai. Amber locks were long in the front and short in the back, gleaming like they were filled with electricity in each strand. His eyes were such a light shade of blue that they were practically white—if they weren't rimmed with such thick amounts of black kohl, Johan might never've seen them. He was dressed in a brilliant ivory suit embroidered with ice-yellow runes. There was a sort of agelessness about him, something that made him seem as if he were any age at all. He looked ancient and young and middle-aged at the same time. He bounced his head in time with music Johan couldn't hear.

Johan knew him immediately as Zeus, Lord of the Heavens. There could be no other.

Zeus looked to the skies. His eyes sparked. "Demeter," he called with a gentle coo, his voice like bitter honey. "Sister, love, I know you are watching. Come here now."

A shadow rippled in front of the throne. A woman appeared and knelt before the throne. Johan didn't recognize her. She had long, wheat-colored hair entangled in a tight braid with stalks of dried corn and grass weaved in and a pale green gossamer dress that complimented her graceful figure.

With her head bowed and her hands raised in supplication, she looked like the picture of a perfect servant; but Johan knew better. He'd heard Judai and all the others. Demeter was an evil creature, and she was always plotting.

"My king," she said. "What is your bidding?"

"Ha!" Zeus laughed. "Spare me, sister dear. Don't try to deceive me. I know you have been seeking your Seed. That's why none of the crops on earth have been growing. You desire to maintain that Tree of yours so much that you don't care whether the mortals live or die."

Demeter started to protest. "Brother, I—"

"Shut up. If you weren't my sister, so help me, I'd—!" Zeus raised his fist, and Demeter cowered. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

In the last second, Zeus seemed to reconsider his actions. He exhaled and lowered his fist. "Never mind." He closed his eyes. "I grow tired of your antics, sister dear. I'm not going to waste my time or my energy striking you. You'll learn from your mistakes sooner or later."

"Brother love, I am not—"

"Shut up."

Johan heard the warning in Zeus's tone, and apparently so did Demeter. She shrank back and bowed her head in submission, but she was smiling just a bit. She was plotting something, and though he didn't know what, he didn't like it.

"You want to know where she is, don't you?" Zeus asked.

Demeter jerked her head up. Her eyes were shining with glee. "Oh, brother, how I love you! Thank you, thank you!"

"Tch—I never said I would tell you, and look how excited you are. Huh." Zeus grinned down at her. "All right. I'll tell you the location of your Seed, Demeter. I know where she is. Approach and I shall tell you where she is."

Demeter came forward. Johan thought Zeus would whisper the location of the Seed to her, but instead he grasped her wrist and placed it against his mouth. Her fingertips smoked. Demeter cried out and tried to pull away, but Zeus's strength was too much for him. He held her wrist. The god of lightnings entire being glowed with electric images of the world below. It was all too much to take. He pulsed all of his power into her body. The electric aura spread to Demeter's hand, traveling up her arm until her entire body was engulfed in flames. She screamed twice. Then the fires died, and Zeus dropped her to the ground.

The goddess of agriculture dropped to her knees, and gasped. Smoke curled from her dress, and the dried stalks of corn and grass weaved into her braid had turned black and crispy. Her braid came undone and snaked over her shoulder.

"You lived," Zeus said. "Damn."

Johan couldn't tell if Zeus was disappointed or impressed.

Demeter rose unsteadily to her feet. She looked shell-shocked, as if she'd just witnessed the burnings of a million fields, but otherwise seemed unharmed. "You—" She shook her head. "You burned me. You lit your own sister on fire."

"A lesson to you," Zeus responded.

"You tricked me. You said you'd tell me where she was. You lied."

The god of the sky shook his head. "I did not. Granted I gave you a bit more than you bargained for, but I'll keep my promise. I'll tell you where she is." His lips curled into a sadistic smirk. His eyes were so lit with lightning that they danced and flickered with color. He looked over his shoulder and called, "Joshua!"

Johan's breath stilled in his throat. Joshua? _But that's...my father's name_.

A man materialized at Zeus's side. He was dressed in Greek armor of leather and iron, and he seemed young, as if he were an older teenager or a young adult just recently turned twenty. There were no lines to show any spots of aging, nor were there gray streaks in his hair. But he was Joshua Andersen all the same. His skin was tinted with a strande mixture of gray and poison green, lightly enough to be only a faint dusting that may've been a trick of the sunlight, but he was still Joshua Andersen. He even wore those ancient shoes Johan always saw him wearing. They looked newer now, as if they'd been fashioned days before.

Johan was tempted to shout for him, but the sentient part of his brain was too stunned to form words. His father...knew Zeus? His father...

Joshua gave Demeter a narrowed glance. "My king, is this...creature pestering you?" He reached to his side and groped about for the curved dagger, encrusted with green runes, attached to his hip by a leather strap.

Zeus shook his head. "Relax, Joshua. She is not pestering me. But she will be pestering someone you know." He stared down his nose at his sister. "Joshua, young Demeter here wants to know where her precious Seed is."

Demeter glared.

"Never!" Joshua drew the dagger and surged forward, but Zeus held his arm out.

"Enough," he said. "I did not call you here to watch you tear my sister to shreds—though, admittedly, it would be quite amusing. I merely called you here to hear your opinion on it. As you can see," he said, addressing Demeter now, "he doesn't approve, so you can't have her. Too bad, sister love."

Joshua snarled, but tucked the dagger back in its sheath.

Demeter stared at Zeus with her eyes bright as the sun; her lips were drawn into a snarl. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you brother mine? She belongs to me. If not here...then another. If she has been claimed"—she shot a fierce look at Joshua—"then there's nothing I can do. However, any offspring of hers belongs immediately to me. Know my will, brother. One way or another I will have my Seed."

"No, you won't," Joshua said. "I'll see to that."

"There's only so much you can see to, _meliae_," she growled.

Johan couldn't understand the name that she'd called his father, but he didn't like it. He didn't understand what his father was even doing here. Who were they talking about? The Seed? He tried to wrap his head around it, but wasn't able to. Nothing made any sense.

Zeus raised his head. "Get out of here, Demeter," he ordered. "Let's go, Joshua."

The throne room erupted in a beacon of electric light. Demeter turned her gaze away and shielded her eyes with her arm. When the smoke cleared, Joshua and Zeus were gone. Demeter knelt all alone in the middle of the room.

She roared at the ceiling, "This is not over, brother! Do you hear? I'll have my Seed again! Mark my words!"

The goddess of agriculture was so enraged with herself that she didn't notice the other gods watching from the shadows, hating her, despising her existence. The throne room was filled with her threats, so many harsh ones aimed at Zeus and at Joshua, especially at Joshua. She called him a "traitor", a "no-good-waste-of-strength", and last of all, "a damned betraying meliae", whatever that meant.

Johan's dream faded, and he sank into darkness.

* * *

Johan woke to a bucket of ice water in his face.

"Wake up!" Jim said.

"God!" Johan yelled. "Did you really have to do that?"

"No," Jim admitted. "And it's 'gods', by the way."

Johan wanted to strangle him, except that he was dripping wet, shivering, still disoriented, and Jim was a demigod—much stronger than he was. Johan put a hand to his head. Just how long had he been asleep for? It felt like only a few minutes after his dream ended, but the cabin was empty. All the beds and sleeping bags were made and folded neatly. The other children of Hephaestus must've gone to breakfast or to their classes or activities.

Jim tossed him a towel and another one of Judai's shirts and a pair of jeans. "Judai said he'll meet us in the bath house."

"Just got a bath, thanks," Johan muttered.

Jim laughed. "This one'll be better, I swear." He slung a bag over his shoulder and unfolded a long black wrench.

Johan didn't remember much of what happened next. Jim brought him to the bath house, where they met Judai, already clothed and ready to go. Johan showered quickly and dressed, preparing himself to go off to his house.

When they got on the train heading to Johan's apartment, Judai spent the majority of the ride glaring out the window. Johan stuck close to him, even if he felt a bit awkward sitting next to the kid dressed in Goth clothes who kept weapons tucked in his pockets and sleeves. Johan didn't really mind the silence; it gave him a chance to think. He kept reliving the last few moments in his apartment, his fight with the creature Judai and the demigods called Minos. It hurt to think about, like putting pressure on a sore arm, but he just couldn't stop doing it.

Farther down the train, two girls with pink skin and orange eyes sitting on one of the benches were giggling together. Johan wondered what they were, and what they were laughing at, but then he saw the girls staring wide-eyed at Judai.

He remembered that people tended to look like that when they thought someone was attractive. Then he remembered that Judai was attractive. The Goth clothes suited him well. Johan had nearly forgotten that Judai was sitting beside him, and he turned to look.

In the daylight, Judai's eyes were the color of brilliant amber chips...and they were looking right at him.

"Something I can help you with?" He cocked an eyebrow.

Johan felt his face flush, and he turned traitor against the two mythical girls—it was obvious they weren't human anymore. "Those...I don't know whats...on the other end of the train are staring at you." He pointed across the train.

Judai assumed an air of genuine amusement. "Oh? So they are. What can I say? Nixies love me."

"Nixies?"

"Yup." Judai winked at the two girls, and they giggled like madwomen and turned away. Their faces were an even darker shade of pink than they had been when Johan first saw them. He felt a bit sickened by their display.

The incident with the nixies—which Judai never gave him an actual definition for—seemed to put Judai in an interesting mood. As they left the station and headed up the hill to Johan's apartment, he kept on humming that same song he'd been singing outside the poetry competition. It sounded like a mix between an old battle hymn and something from church. Johan made a mental note to ask Judai to teach it to him when they had the chance.

"You seem to be in a good mood today," Johan pointed out.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You were really angry yesterday."

Judai pursed his lips until they were white. "Ike...got on my nerves. I had to get away from him for a while before I did something I regretted. The children of Demeter are, to say the least, annoying. I'd much rather have them somewhere far away—in Tartarus with their fucking mother—but they are demigods and we have an obligation to house them."

"You really don't like them, do you?"

"Not in the least," he said, and Johan would've asked him more about if, but they arrived at his apartment, and his heart started to beat so loudly he thought Judai was going to turn and give him a strange look.

There were no signs of last night's destruction. Bathed in the light of the afternoon, the apartment seemed as normal as ever. The rosebushes underneath Madame Meredet's window shimmered like red-gold in the sun. "It looks...the same," Johan said.

"On the outside," Judai answered quietly.

They climbed the stairs in silence, and Johan bent down to get his keys. As he straightened up, he saw scratches on the front door. He hadn't noticed them last night in the dark, but they were there now; thick grooves in the wood of the door, left by some creature...Minos, no doubt.

Judai touched his arm. "I'll go in first."

Johan wanted to tell him that he didn't need to cower behind him, but his voice caught in his throat. He could taste the terror that'd been there last night when he first saw King Minos. It was heavy, like a bag of pennies on his tongue. He swallowed and nodded.

Judai pushed the door open with his shoulder, beckoning Johan in once he cleared the door frame. Once inside the entryway, Johan blinked, adjusting his eyes to the dimness. The bulb overhead was still out, and shadows lay thick across the chipped floor. Judai reached over and brushed his hand across the wall of the entry way. He drew it back with an audible groan. "Ugh. The fuck?" He rubbed the tips of his fingers together. They were red-black. "Blood," he said.

"Maybe it's mine?" Johan guessed.

"It'd be dry by now if it was," he answered. "Let's go."

The living room was still a mess, exactly as it'd been left. The air was chilled, and he felt goosebumps litter his arms. Judai led him into the kitchen, slowly. It was just as bare, too, just as ruined. The bare floor made Johan think of something from a horror movie.

"There's nothing here," Judai said. "We should go."

Johan shook his head. "My room. I need to see if there's anything there...a clue, maybe."

Judai looked as if he wanted to say something, but he just sighed. "As you wish." He reached into his pocket and drew out a small coin. He fiddled with it and kept his wrist—the one with the frightening bracelet on it—slightly raised.

The light in the hallway was out, but Johan didn't need it to navigate inside his own house. With Judai just inches behind him, he found the door to his bedroom and reached for the knob. It was cold in his hand, cold as ice. He saw Judai look at him quickly, as if he were contemplating knocking Johan unconscious, throwing him over his shoulder, and running as fast as he could out of the apartment. Johan tried to ignore him. He was already turning the knob, slower than usual. He shoved on the door, and it slid open slowly, as if there were something sticky on the floor obstructing its movement. He shoved against it with all his might—

And the door flew open backwards, slamming into him.

He skidded across the hallway and smashed into a wall. He dropped to his knees, his head thumping. There was a dull roaring in his ears where his head had struck, and he looked up to see what the heck had just smacked into him.

Judai, flat against the wall, was fumbling with the coin in his hand, his face a mask of white surprise. "Oh gods, oh gods!" he shouted, flipping the coin and cursing. "Come on, come on! Turn!"

Looming above him like a giant in a fairy tale was an enormous man, as wide as an oak tree and almost as tall. He clutched an ax made of wood and stone in one dark green hand. Tattered rags hung off his miscolored flesh, and his hair was a messy shag of black and brown. He stank of sweat and rot, and Johan was suddenly thankful that his back was to him. He didn't want to know what the face looked like.

Judai flipped the coin, and his spear emerged. "Thank you!"

Then he reached over and clicked the bracelet on his wrist. It unfolded like a flower, opening up to look like a shield. Johan reeled back in horror. The face on the shield was so horrifying it made the beast stagger back with a startled cry. The face was the most horrifying thing Johan had ever seen—a screaming woman with gashes and gouges on her face, her eyes wide and popping, her hair a twisted mess of snakes, beetles crawling out of her open mouth. The image was molded into the iron. Judai thrust his wrist forward and raised the electric spear in a threat; the beast took it and screeched at him, but didn't step closer.

Judai whirled around, racing toward Johan. "GET UP!" He caught his arm, dragged him to his feet, pushing him down the hall. Now that the face wasn't holding it back, Johan could hear the creature coming after them; its footsteps sounded like lea weights.

They sped through the entryway and out onto the landing. Judai turned to him, his expression animalistic and filled with horror. "Get out of here," he shouted. "Hurry, before it—"

Another blow came, and the door was thrown out into the hallway after them. It would've struck Judai in the head and killed him if he hadn't moved as fast as he did; he was on top of the stairs now, the spear gleaming in his grip like a bolt of lightning. Johan saw Judai look at him and shout something, but he couldn't hear it over the roar of the monster. Johan flattened himself against the wall as the beast burst from the apartment and tore at Judai. The ax was swinging wildly, but as it slashed down, Judai ducked, and the blade embedded itself in the ground near him. The beast tumbled over and almost fell down the stairs.

"COME ON!" Judai swung the spear and plunged the tip into the creature's shoulder.

For a moment, the creature stood swaying. Then he lurched forward, his hands outstretched and grasping. Judai tried to rip his spear back, but it caught on bone and kept him stuck to the beast. The beast staggered and fell, dragging Judai down with it.

"NO!" Judai cried out once—followed by a series of booming thuds and cracking sounds as the two tumbled down the stairs.

Johan scrambled to his feet and rushed after him. Judai was sprawled out at the foot of the stairs on his back, his eyes wide. He was gasping. Across his legs lay the monster, the spear jutting from its thick shoulder. It was dead, but Johan could see its face clearly now. It was as green as the rest of its body, littered with a thick spierweb of black lines that almost destroyed its facial features. Its eyes were two leaking pits of pus and bugs. Fighting the urge to gag, Johan stumbled down the broken stairs, stepped over the body of the dead beast, and fell on his knees next to Judai, who kept staring at the ceiling in shock.

He was so still, Johan thought he was dead too. He placed his hand on Judai's cheek and stared into his eyes. "Judai?"

"Is it dead?" He blinked once.

"Yes."

"Praise Gaea." Judai shifted his shoulders and sat up on his elbows. "Ouch."

"Are you...are you okay?"

"Yup." Judai pushed off his elbows and dragged himself out from underneath the giant's dead carcass. "Sure hurt less than that time I fought the Hellhound. Remind me to tell you about it something. I've got the scars to prove it." He struggled to his feet, reaching out and ripping the spear from the monster's black. "Mine, thank you very much." He stared at the blade in disgust. "Ugh, gross. He got his blood all over it. This thing is going to need a serious bath when we get back to the Camp."

Johan looked down at the corpse of the beast. "What...was that thing?"

Judai nudged it with the toe of his boot to ensure that it was dead. "This thing," he said, "is an Earthborne. You asked what was so bad about Demeter. This is one of them. These things are her minions; they were nymphs, humans, demigods, some sort of humanoid creature at some point. Some of them were even her own children. Demeter warped their minds and drove them mad, turned them into the killer you see here. There are tons of them. Giants and the like. The Earthborne are mindless killing machines, and they're the bane of the Olympians. Have been since the Demigod War. These were her secret weapon."

Johan stared at him in horror. "Why would she do this to her own children? To _anyone?_"

Judai smiled without emotion. "Because she's sick."

"As a dog," said a shrill and familiar voice. "Her motives do leave something to be desired."

Judai spun and stared. Johan did, too, though he already knew who the voice belonged to. "Madame Meredet?"

The old woman inclined her head regally. She stood in the doorway of her apartment, dressed in what looked like a robe made of pale green fabric. Gold chains glittered around her wrists and roped around her throat. Her hair was stuck in a bun with a pencil jammed through to keep it in place.

Judai was still staring. "How..."

Madame Meredet smiled darkly. "Demeter certainly is a character, isn't she? So dark. So twisted. Like something from a horror movie. How did someone so messed up get to be an Olympian, I wonder." She sounded a little too optimistic for the topic she was discussing. She glanced at the corpse on the ground. "And she sent an Earthborne, too? Well, then, there must be something she wants. Mr. Andersen, is it you, perhaps?"

Johan started, "I—"

"You're a mortal!" Judai interrupted, finally getting what he wanted to say out.

"So observant," said Madame Meredet. Her eyes were sparkling. "The Camp really broke the mold with you, didn't they?"

The bewilderment on Judai's face shifted to horror. "How do you know about the Camp? Who are you? If you're a human then you shouldn't know about it unless you have a child who's a demigod! Do you? Is one of your kids at the Camp?"

"Don't be daft," Madame Meredet snapped. "I have no children."

Johan shot Judai a look to let him know it was all right, then turned to Madame Meredet. "If you know about the Camp," he said hopefully, "then maybe you know about what happened to my mom and dad."

She shook her head. Her eyes were filled with pity. "My advice to you," she said, "is to forget them."

The floor beneath Johan's feet seemed to tilt. "You...you mean my mom and dad are dead?" The world around him seemed to spin out of focus, and his vision was dotted with black and white specks. He felt sick, bile creeping up his throat, tears burning his eyes.

"No," she said, rather reluctantly. "For now, no. They are alive...as much they can be."

"Then I have to find them!" Johan felt Judai's hand on his elbow, keeping him stable in case he collapsed. "If my parents are still alive, then I have to do everything I can to make sure they're all right!"

Madame Meredet glanced at her door, then at Judai and Johan. "You two better come inside," she said. "We have much to discuss, if you are planning on hunting your parents, Johan. There are things you must know about Demeter." She started for the door, then turned and glared at Judai. "If you aim that spear at me again, Son of Zeus, then I'll see you hanged from your bedroom rafters with snakes. I can make sure of that."

"Yikes," Judai said mildly.

"Yikes indeed, Judai Yuki." Madame Meredet stepped into her apartment.

Johan looked at him. "She knows your name?"

Judai looked just as frightened as Johan was. "Guess so. Not sure how much I like that."

Johan glanced after Madame Meredet. The lights were on inside the apartment; already the heavy scent of incense was flooding the entryway, mixing with the smell of blood. Johan gagged. Still, he turned to Judai and said, "We should go after her. She can tell us some things we need to know. What do we have to lose?"

"Spend a while in the world of the gods," Judai said, "and you'll never say that again."

* * *

Madame Meredet's apartment seemed to have roughly the same layout as Johan's, though she'd made very different use of the space. The entryway, smelling of herbal incense, were lined with beads on a curtain and astrological posters. Pictures of Greek symbols and runes littered the walls and the ceilings. A painting with an image of twelve figures standing in a straight line, varying in heights, stood in a thick wooden frame. Narrow bookshelves stacked with scrolls and books ran along the walls next to the doorway. Mirrors and cups and bowls carved with designs and Greek images of heroes and stories stood on top of the bookshelves.

The beads rattled, and Madame Meredet poked her head out. "Instered in astrology," she asked, "or just curious?"

"Curious," Johan answered. "Can you really tell the future?"

"My ancestors knew the method better than I," she said. "I'm just a novice, sadly." She eyed Judai. "Would you like something to drink, Mr. Yuki? Some tea, perhaps?"

Judai looked flustered. "W-what?"

"Tea. I find it rather soothing, actually. Especially after you've just killed something in my foyer."

Johan realized that he hadn't had breakfast this morning. He woke up feeling as if his veins had been shot with adrenaline. Maybe it had something to do with that dream about his dad. "I'll have some, if you don't mind," he said.

"Not at all." Madame Meredet looked at Judai. "And you?"

Judai gave up. "All right. As long as it's none of that chai shit." He wrinkled his nose. "Last time I had chai, it was served to me by one of Hecate's kids. Let me tell you, that shit's nasty. Take my word on that; I do not recommend you try it."

Madame Meredet laughed loudly and vanished behind her bead curtain.

"So we're just supposed to follow you?" Judai called after her. "Where's the footman, huh?"

Madame Meredet snorted through the curtain. "If you were half as funny as you thought you were, Yuki, you'd be twice as funny as you actually are." She didn't say anything else, but Johan heard her in the other room, rattling around and clanking cups together.

Judai blinked. "I...didn't understand any of that."

"Odd," Johan said. "I did." He marched into the room covered by the bead curtain before Judai could come up with an intelligent answer.

The living room was so dimly lit that it took several blinks for Johan's eyes to adjust. Faint light outlined the curtains drawn across the entire left wall. The floor was layered with Persian rugs. A group of bright pink armchairs were gathered around a low table. A stack of tarot cards bound with silk ribbons occupied one side of the table, a black crystal ball on a golden pedestal on the other. In the center was the tea she'd promised, laid out for company: a neat plate of stacked sandwiches, a blue teapot unfurling with white steam, and two teacups on matching saucers in front of the two armchairs. The scents were marvelous.

"Wow," Johan said softly. "This is amazing." He sat down in one of the chairs, exhaling. It felt so good to sit down.

Madame Meredet sat down on the chair opposite them. "Now, you both probably have a lot of questions. First off, no I am not a demigod. And no, I do not have any children, so none of them are. But my ancestors were connected to gods. One in particular was Medea."

Judai choked on his tea. "The witch?"

"Indeed." Madame Meredet's eyes glittered with secrets. "She is a relative of mine, which is why I can do the things I do. But I do not carry my ancestor's legacy. I did not have a role to play in the Demigod War, either. I chose to sit that one out. Bunch of rubbish it was—Demeter trying to claim her Seed, a whole horde of demigods telling her she couldn't. Huge war started over something so little; it made me sick, so I sat it out and turned away anyone who came asking my assistance. I was a young woman back then, much younger than I am now." She laughed with a sense of modesty. "But enough about me."

Judai's eyes were cold. "They knew, didn't they? Johan's parents."

"Know what?"

"What you were."

Her grin was frightening. "Yes, they did." She leaned back in her chair. "The Andersens' told me to keep a look out for anything that came this way. I told them all I knew and they told me what they heard; it all worked out. I kept them safe."

"From what?" Johan asked.

"What indeed." Madame Meredet's eyes glimmered.

Johan felt cold all of a sudden.

The old woman looked at him with pity in her eyes. "I'm sorry about your parents," she said. "But there's nothing I can do. Demeter wants them for something, and it seems she got them. Be thankful that you weren't home when she came."

Judai's lip curled. "You mean to tell me that Demeter's out of Tartarus?"

"The _meliae_ did not keep her down for long," Madame Meredet confided softly, "when he struck her down in the war."

_There's that word again_, Johan thought. He remembered the name Demeter had called his father in his dream. He wanted to ask what it meant, but his voice wouldn't come. He made a mental note to ask Samejima and Judai about it later, once they got back to the Camp and his voice was working again.

"But that's enough for today," Madame Meredet said. She stood up. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

"Yes," Judai said coldly. "We've overstayed our welcome."

He stood up and took Johan's wrist, dragging him to his feet again. Johan looked at Madame Meredet and noticed that she had an odd expression, as if she were wary of Judai. Her eyes flickered to him, and she tried her best to look casual.

"If you have any questions about Demeter," she said to him, "come see me. My ancestors knew her well, and I keep up-to-date on all the gossip."

"Thanks. We'll do that." Judai led Johan out of the apartment without looking back. The last thing Johan saw was Madame Meredet sitting back down and peering into her crystal ball. He thought he saw her smile, as if to an old friend, but the door closed before he got a good look.

* * *

Me: And so, readers, we have met Madame Meredet in more detail, and she is related to Medea and knows a bit about Demeter and what is going on. But Judai doesn't like her, so will she be a valuable thing in the near future? Let's find out!

Lucy: And what about the dream Johan had? We'll have to find out that too!


	7. Meliae

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (_spiritshipping_); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

* * *

Me: Here is the seventh chapter, finally up and running.

Lucy: After what happened in the previous chapter, hopefully this will shed some light on what Johan is and where his parents are. Hopefully this will be a good chapter, though it is short.

Me: Enjoy it!

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN: MELIAE**

* * *

The greenhouse was laid out with what seemed to Johan's untrained eye no particular pattern, but everywhere he looked was a riot of exotic colors. Blue blossoms with golden bulbs spilled down the side of a shimmering white hedge, and a brilliant green vine was studded with jewel-like red droplets.

They emerged into a cleared space where a low granite bench rested against the bole of a drooping tree with pale orange-tinted leaves. Water glimmered in a stone-rimmed pool. Samejima knelt on the floor with his centaur legs tucked beneath him. He had been watching the water, but looked up at their arrival. Johan looked upward and saw that the glass roof of the greenhouse shone back at them like a tiny mirror.

"Welcome home," Samejima greeted. He rose from the ground and shuffled his four legs. The smile on his face faded. "Judai, what happened? You look as if—"

"We were attacked," Judai said sharply. "Earthborne."

"Earthborne? _Here?_"

Judai narrowed his eyes at Samejima. "You've been keeping secrets from us, haven't you, Samejima?" He then spat out a recital of the day's events, leaving out only the name of Madame Meredet, in honor of the help she'd offered them. "She told us Demeter had escaped Tartarus," he finished. "You knew, didn't you? You've known all along."

Samejima had gone very pale. "So what I feared was true," he said, to himself. "He didn't keep her down."

Johan looked to Judai for clarification, but the demigod looked too pissed off to make heads or tails of what Samejima had said. "You never said anything to me about it," he accused. "I told you to tell me as soon as you heard something. How long have you been keeping this from me?"

The centaur exhaled, closing his weary eyes. "It's time I stopped lying to you, Judai. I'll tell you—all about the Demigod War."

He closed his eyes and said something in fluent Latin.

Johan blinked. "Um..."

"I understood it perfectly." Judai's brilliant amber eyes were shining with hateful lightning. He translated, through grit teeth, "_I hereby render unconditional obedience and loyalty to the Order of the Meliae and the power of the gods of Olympus...I will be ready to risk my life at any moment to ensure that the goddess Demeter is unable to perform her deepest desires, which jeopardize our peaceful way of life and threaten the morals of which we must abide by. In order to maintain the peace and the tranquility his almighty Lord Zeus and the eleven true Olympians have granted us, I will fight. Until my breath runs out and my sword breaks in half, I will fight_."

Johan stared at him, confused. "What is that from?"

Samejima looked tired. "It's an oath," he said. "The oath of the Order of the Meliae, many years ago."

"It sounds creepy," Johan said, shivering. "Like the oath of some sick organization."

The centaur set the palm of his hand on the trunk of the tree. He looked pained and grave as the creatures carved into his wooden desk down in the library. "The Order of the Meliae," he said slowly, "was a side of the Demigod War. As with all wars there were two sides. This side was the demigods' side, the side of the Olympians. The other side was the Company of Demeter. Led by the goddess herself, they were a group dedicated to finding the Seed to Demeter's Tree and maintaining the 'purity and peace' of the world. Their plan was to wipe out the Order and slay any and all who opposed the goddess, even the other Olympians if that's what it came to."

"But they failed," Judai said, finally recognizing the story and filling in what he already knew. "I didn't know the Order was named after the _meliae_."

"What are the _meliae?_" Johan demanded, but none of them answered him.

"Most of the documents containing information about the Order were destroyed," Samejima said, "on request of the leader. He didn't want anyone to know the truth. The oath was forgotten long ago."

"So why do you know it?" Judai demanded.

Samejima hesitated—only for a moment, but Johan saw it, and a shiver of anticipation ran up his spine. He lowered his gaze to the ground, refusing to look up into Judai's eyes. "Because," he said softly, "I was a member, a warrior."

Judai looked over at him. "_You_ were in the Order?"

"I was. Many of us here at the Camp were." Samejima was looking straight ahead. "Johan's father was as well."

Johan flinched as if he'd been slapped. "What?"

"I said—"

"I know what you said! My dad was in the Demigod Wars? He was a part of the Order? _How?_ My dad couldn't have been there...he wasn't born that long ago! He's only forty-four, for God's sake! So how on Earth could he..."

Samejima cut him off. "Your father _was_ there, Johan. Joshua Andersen is not forty-four. In fact, he was born _long_ before the Demigod War. And it's not impossible, for him to be that old. Your father was a _meliae_, Johan—an ash-tree nymph."

Johan stared. "An...ash-tree nymph? My dad?"

"Indeed. Your mother, too."

"B-but..." He scrunched his nose, trying to make heads or tails of what information he knew. It was as if his world had been shifted unspide down and turned all around, and he was standing on the one tiny patch of sanity he had left. "If my parents are ash-tree nymphs...then I am too?" He shook his head. None of that mattered, not know. "Never mind that! That doesn't explain why my dad was involved in the Demigod Wars! My dad hates war! He would never get involved in something like that!"

"I doubt," Samejima said, "he had much choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"He was a lieutenant to Zeus, a special friend of his. Naturally he would be involved. In fact, he was the leader of the Order of the Meliae. And," he said in a soft voice, "it was a personal war, to him. He was trying to protect your mother. The war was about her."

Johan didn't understand. "What are you talking about? Why on earth would the war be about her? My mom was a nymph, so it shouldn't have mattered, right? So why was the war of the demigods about my mom?"

"Because," Samejima murmured, as if saying it pained him, "your mother, Andrea Andersen, was the Seed to Demeter's Tree."

* * *

Me: This was a relatively short chapter, but only because we couldn't put too much information without really messing with the story and ruining some of the surprises to come.

Lucy: Thank you all and please review nicely!


	8. Sons of Apollo

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (_spiritshipping_); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

* * *

Me: Here is the next chapter in the story!

Lucy: Johan has just discovered that his mother and father are ash tree nymphs, and his mother is the Seed to Demeter's Tree. What's going to happen now that he knows this? Find out!

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT: SONS OF APOLLO**

* * *

There was a moment of astonished silence before both Johan and Judai began speaking at once. Judai bellowed, "_What?_ The Seed of Demeter's Tree was _real?_ I thought—"

"That's impossible!" Johan shouted. "How could my mother have anything to do with that...that monster? Why was my mother the Seed?"

Samejima raised his hand wearily. "Boys—" He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. Johan found it hard to believe that Samejima and his parents had known each other, had fought together years, no, _centuries_ ago. "Johan, your father protected your mother from Demeter. The Order of the Meliae was very secure. And your father was an exceptional warrior. Why, your father trained Ares himself." He smiled at the surprised look on Johan's face. "He loved your mother very much, and did everything in his power to protect her."

"Did she...did she know she was the Seed?"

"She knew." Samejima's voice dipped quietly, as if he were telling them a big secret. "But she didn't want to be."

"Who could blame her?" Judai muttered.

"The Company of Demeter was relentless," Samejima said softly. "The war went on for years. There weren't a lot of battles, a tussle now and again, here and there. But the final battle was the greatest. It ended when Joshua Andersen drove a sword into Demeter and banished her to the realm of the Dead."

"Tartarus." Judai's look was quick, but Samejima saw it.

He said, "Yes. Being an immortal goddess, Demeter could not be killed. However, Joshua Andersen was immortal, too. Zeus granted him use of his master bolt, fashioned it into a sword, and let Joshua sever his sister's spine."

Judai stared. It was as if he were looking at the centaur through new eyes, Johan thought. It wasn't Judai who changed. He muttered, "Why did you keep this from Johan, if you knew his father?"

"I knew him years ago," Samejima responded. "After the Demigod War, he took Andrea and disappeared. And Johan, you were so insistent that your parents were just human, you convinced me that he wasn't the Joshua I knew—though you look just like him. Maybe deep down I didn't wish to believe it. No one would ever with for Demeter's return, except her children." He shook his head again. "When I sent for the Sons of Apollo this morning I didn't know what to tell them. When the Olympians find out that Demeter might be returning, that she's seeking her Seed, there will be an uproar."

"I bet Demeter will love that," Judai growled. "Anything to get revenge."

Samejima's face was gray. "If you were in her shoes," he said softly, "and someone ruined your plans, wouldn't you want the same?"

Judai looked outraged. "If I were in Demeter's shoes," he said through his teeth, "I'd find some other way to save the freakin' world, without having to use the life of someone who very clearly didn't want to give it up! What I want to know if how the fuck Demeter managed to—"

"Dinnertime!"

It was Asuka, standing framed in the doorway of the garden. Her long blond hair was tied back in a thick braid, and her blue dress was filthy around the hem. "It started three minutes ago, you guys," she told them. "What are you all doing in here? You're missing the food! They finally let me in the kitchen to cook!"

"Dear gods," Judai muttered, "the dread hour is nigh."

Samejima looked alarmed. "I—I—I already had a very filling lunch, thank you, Asuka," he stammered. "I don't think I could eat another bite this evening. I might go for a run, actually. Lose some of this weight and all. Ayukawa was telling me earlier that I could lose a few pounds, and I really—"

"You're such a horrid liar," Asuka said darkly. "Besides, Shou helped me."

Judai's shoulders went from tense to relaxed. "Oh, thank Zeus. I think I can stomach that."

"I might be able to get down a few bites," Samejima said.

Asuka's face flushed with color. "Oh, fuck you two!"

Judai ducked by her with an affectionate ruffle of her hair. She smacked his arm and winced; Johan imagined Judai had given her a tiny static shock. Samejima went after him and stopped to pat Asuka on the shoulder—and then he ran away before she could land a punch on his shoulder. Johan stared after them, all the tension from their conversation still present in his mind.

Asuka grumbled under her breath, glaring after them. Johan asked, "Is he, too?"

Asuka blinked. "Is who what?"

"Judai. Is he a terrible liar, too?"

Now Asuka turned to look at him, and her eyes were bright and wide and strangely thoughtful. "No," she said. "He's not a liar at all. He tells the truth. When he first came here, we thought he might be a son of Apollo. Judai never lies. He'll tell you horrible truths, but he won't lie." She paused before she murmured, "That's why you shouldn't ask him any questions unless you're absolutely certain you can handle the answer. He won't lie to spare your feelings, Johan. Remember that, if you were planning to ask him something important."

Johan swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

"Well," Asuka said, fluttering her hands. "There's enough of that tonight. Come eat some dinner. You'll feel better."

The memories of the conversation were still present. Johan looked down at his hands. For a moment, he thought they were the color of an ash tree. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. "Nothing will make me feel better," he said. "Nothing."

* * *

The House of Nymphs was warm and full of light, and the smell of herbs and flowers lingered in the air. The smell reminded Johan of his mother's flower garden; it didn't help his mood.

After dinner, Judai escorted Johan to the nymph's lodging. "Samejima's orders," he'd said when Johan demanded to know why. "He figured meeting the nymphs might help you adjust better, considering...you know."

To be fair, the nymphs were very friendly. They welcomed Johan without question. There was a fair handful of them, an assorted amount of garden nymphs and tree spirits and air sprites. Johan looked around for the water nymphs, but one of them claimed that they preferred to live in the lakes. Johan supposed that made sense.

"Well, I think it's sort of sweet," said Tithorea, a dryade with leaves for hair and bark-colored skin.

"What is?" Johan asked.

"That whole business with Joshua Andersen starting a war just to defend your mother," she said.

Judai had filled Tithorea, the head of the Nymph House, in on Johan's predicament. It didn't seem to deter her. She treated Johan like all the others—as if he were her own child. Judai informed him on the way that Tithorea was famous for that. She looked exactly like the nymphs Johan's mother painted and drew. Long hair, slender face, perfect figure. Her eyes were the color of honey, and whenever she walked by, the scent of the forest went with her. It was impossible to feel sad in her presence.

"So," Tithorea continued, "Judai, you believe Demeter has taken Johan's parents for revenge?"

"Or just Joshua." Judai had raided the Nymph House's fridge and come up with a plate of nachos. Johan tried not to question it. "If Andrea Andersen is the Seed to her Tree, she might be trying to use her again. Maybe she's punishing Joshua."

Johan felt a shiver run up his spine.

"You might be right." Tithorea turned her glance to Johan and smiled gently. "Your father is a tough man, Johan. I knew him personally."

"You did?" Johan sat up straight.

He found it difficult to believe that so many people in the Camp had known his father personally, when he was a "young" man. Johan also found himself curious about his parents' actual age. Samejima had claimed that Joshua trained Ares himself, and Ares was a god. And gods were thousands of years old. Johan looked at himself. He'd aged like a human.

"I did," Tithorea answered. "Joshua was a good man. I fought on his side during the Demigod Wars. He was an exceptional leader. You should be proud."

Johan didn't answer. He didn't know if he should be proud or disgusted with his parents.

They'd kept his whole heritage a secret. They'd raised him to believe he was something he wasn't—human. He wished he could find them. There were so many things he wanted to ask.

"Do you think they're okay?" Johan's voice was a whisper. "My mom and dad?"

Judai didn't look at him.

Guilt and despair settled in Johan's stomach like a stone.

"The Sons of Apollo will be able to help," Judai said. He set his empty plate of nachos down and stood up. "I'll tell Samejima to send them a message. They'll be here soon. Until then, Johan, I suggest you get some sleep, all right? It'll make you feel better."

You'll feel better.

Johan clenched his fists tightly. "I'm pretty sure it won't," he snapped. "I have no idea how I'm going to recover from this. It's not every day someone tells me I'm not human."

"You think you're the only one who thought they were human?" Judai's voice was soft, but harsh. "I was the same way. Every kid in this Camp was. We thought we were human until one day a monster attacked us and killed someone important to us. A friend, a brother, a sister..." His eyes flashed with black lightning. "A mother. My point being, Johan, is that you aren't the only one here who's going through a rough time. Some of these kids still haven't accepted it."

Johan didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth, then closed it. "Judai," he managed. "I didn't—"

"I know you didn't," Judai said quietly. "It's fine. Good night."

He exited the kitchen without another look back.

Tithorea sat quietly for a few awkward moments before she announced, "Look at the time. We best be getting you to bed, Johan."

He wanted to say something, but before he could, his vision went dark. He set his head on the table for a few moments to think. He thought he heard Judai in the other room, taking to one of the nymphs. He sounded upset. Johan wanted to go and apologize to him, but he couldn't move his legs. He felt a hand on his back, a gentle voice in his ear, and then he knew no more. The voice had whispered something to him. Something that made him relax. Something that filled him with a sense of ease.

_I forgive you_.

* * *

_Johan stood in the middle of a grand hall. It was fashioned of gold and opal. The ceilings were high and the windows shimmered with stained glass pictures of Greek gods and heroes, fighting monsters and buildings cities and attacking the massive creatures known as the Titans. Johan stood in the center, wearing a uniform of silver fabric._

_"Where are you watching?" said Jim._

_In the dream, he wore armor constructed entirely of bronze. His missing eye, usually covered with bandages, was a metal expansion set with a red stone. With his armor and eye, he looked like a cyborg creation._

_"I'm looking for Judai," Johan said._

_He glanced over and saw the fountain in the center. The center piece was a woman that looked strangely like his mother and a tree. The branches, made of marble, poured sparkling wine down the trunk. Demigods and nymphs filled their glasses inthe fountain, laughing and talking. The statue stared into space, her face twisted in a look of horror._

_"You're looking in all the wrong places, Joshua Andersen's son," said a voice that wasn't Jim's._

_Johan found that Jim had walked away, and in front of him stood Judai, who was dressed entirely in white. The material of his outfit was thin; Johan saw through it and noticed the coiling golden tattoos he'd never known Judai had. There was a lightning bolt chain around his throat, and his hair and eyes looked brighter than Johan had ever remembered them. He felt as if he were looking into the heart of a thunderstorm when he stared into Judai's eyes. He looked older and wiser, and it took Johan a few minutes, but he recognized the man in front of him._

_It wasn't Judai._

_"Zeus," he whispered. He looked over and spotted Asuka sitting on the rim of the fountain, brushing her fingers through her hair while Jim argued viciously with a tall, burly man in red armor. "Where's Judai?"_

_The god's eyes dulled, and his smile lessened. "This realm," he said, "is accessable only to the living, I'm afraid."_

_Johan's heart stilled. "W-what do you mean?"_

_"It isn't your fault," Zeus reassured him. "None of this is your fault, Joshua Andersen's son. No matter what happens, he doesn't blame you."_

_"What are you talking about?" Johan shouted._

_Asuka and Jim and the red-armored man looked over at him. Johan realized that they weren't who he first thought they were. Who he'd thought was Jim was the god of the forge, Hephaestus, and the girl he'd mistaken for Asuka was her mother, Aphrodite. The man in red armor was Ares, who Johan's father Joshua trained as a child._

_"My parents," Johan choked. "And Judai...where are they?"_

_Zeus leaned close. His lips brushed Johan's ear, and he cringed at the static shock he felt. "Wake up, Johan," the god of lightning said in a voice that wasn't his. "It's time to wake up, now."_

* * *

He bolted awake, gasping, hair plastered to the back of his neck with cold sweat. His wrists were held in a hard grip; he tried to pull away, then realized who was restraining him. "Judai?"

"_Hola_." Judai was sitting on the edge of the bed—how had he gotten to a bed?—looking wide awake. His clothing of choice this time was a leather jacket with a Metallica shirt and a pair of black jeans. Johan found himself wondering if Judai owned any clothes that weren't black, and made a mental note to raid his closet afterward.

"Let me go," Johan said.

"Whoops." Judai let his wrists go. "You tried to hit me when I called your name."

"Oh, I wonder why," Johan responded.

"Smart ass."

He glanced around. He was in a small bedroom furnished in dark wood. By the quality of the faint light through the half-open window, Johan guessed it was dawn or at least close to it. "What happened? How did I get here? What...?"

"I came back and found you asleep at the dinner table." Judai sounded amused. "The nymphs convinced me to let you sleep here. Since you're...well, you know, they said it would be better for you to live with others who knew what it was like. Figured it would help you adjust better than living with selfish, arrogant, highly attractive, slightly annoying, asshole demigods. Their words, not mine." He flashed Johan a white smile.

"Wow, nymphs are so rude." Johan ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Judai, I'm...so sorry about last night. I—"

Judai shook his head. "Don't be."

Johan wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he looked at the dark window and squinted his eyes at the sky. It didn't seem light enough to be morning. "Hey, what time is it?"

"Four o' clock."

"In the _morning?_" Johan shot him a blazing glare. "You better have a damn good reason for waking me up, Judai Yuki, or so help me God—"

"Gaea," Judai corrected, and ducked when Johan hurled a pillow at him. "One of the Sons of Apollo is here to see you. Samejima sent me to get you. He said he could do it, but since it's so early in the morning, I figured you'd be less cranky if you saw something nice when you woke up."

"Meaning the cocky son of a bitch in front of me?"

"Hey!"

"I didn't really agree to this, you know," Johan snapped. "This Sons of Apollo thing, or whatever."

"Do you want to know where your parents are," Judai asked, "or not?"

Johan stared at him.

"You just have to meet with Crowler," Judai said. "That's all. You might even like him. He's actually got a pretty good sense of humor for someone who spends all of his days trapped in a flaming ball in the sky. Though he doesn't like me very much, but I think that's because I gave him a black eye last time he came here. It was when Shou and I were playing tennis or something...you know, I think you better go alone. Crowler hates me."

Johan blinked at him. "If I have to go, you're going with me."

"Oh, come on!" Judai complained. "I'm the son of Zeus! I don't have to go if I don't want to!"

Johan pointed at the door. "Yes, you do. Now, get out so I can change, Thunder King."

Judai rolled his eyes. "Yes, my lord."

Johan swung his legs out of bed the moment the door shut behind Judai. Though it was barely dawn, heat was already beginning to gather. He pushed the window open and went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.

Five minutes later he was sliding his feet into his boots. He'd changed into a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. If only he didn't feel so out of place, then the meeting wouldn't be so bad. But it couldn't be helped. He brushed his hair back with his hands and went to join Judai in the hall. The corridors were dark and cool, and Johan thanked any god that listened to him.

When they reached the library, Johan was surprised to see the lights off. Yet a brilliant glow eminated from the room. The high windows were shut with black curtains.

Samejima sat behind his desk, dressed in a suit. For a moment Johan thought he was alone. Then he saw the glow in the room was a person. A tall man in a brilliant gold robe that fell from neck to foot, covering him completely. The hood of the robe was raised, shielding his face. The intricate runic designs on the hem of his sleeves looked as if they were inked in blood. The hairs on the back of Johan's neck rose, and he felt a wave of heat wash over him. He thought, for a moment, about running away.

"This," Samejima introduced, "is Vellian Crowler of the Sons of Apollo."

The man came forward, his heavy gold cloak billowing around him, and Johan realized why he was so strange. He made no sound as he moved. Even his cloak was silent. Johan knew he wasn't a ghost, because ghosts were supposed to be cold, and heat wafted off the man's body as if he were the flame of some brilliant bonfire in a neighbor's backyard.

"And this, Vellian," Samejima said, rising from his desk, "is Joshua and Andrea Andersen's son. Johan."

The hooded face turned toward him. Johan raised his hand and waved his fingertips. "Hello there. Nice to meet you."

The hood nodded.

"I decided you were correct, Judai," Samejima said.

"I tend to be most of the time," Judai said, "but no one ever wants to admit it. But what exactly was I right about this time?"

Samejima ignored the sarcasm. "I sent an official warning to Mount Olympus this morning, but there is still the matter of Johan. Only he truly knows what both of his parents have been doing these past sixteen years, and before we try to locate them, we'll need his permission to search his memory. If he wants the help of the Sons of Apollo, it should be his choice."

Johan didn't say anything. Of course he wanted to know where his parents were. But the thought of someone messing around with his head was too strange. He looked up at Crowler. Crowler's dark hood stared at him, and Johan felt uneasy. Heat wafted off him, and Johan took a slight step back.

"He looks exactly like Joshua," said a strange voice.

Johan gasped. The voice was strangely accented—Italian, Johan thought—and he knew it must have come from Crowler. The odd part was that Crowler hadn't even moved when he spoke. His chest was still as a slate of stone.

"Yes," Samejima said. "He does, doesn't he?"

"But he has Andrea's gentleness." Crowler took a step forward, slightly. "The seal on him is strong. It is breaking, slowly, but its strength is immeasurable."

"A seal?" Johan asked.

"Naturally." Crowler's accented voice was empty. He sounded neither pleased nor disapproving. "Your parents must have enlisted the aid of the gods. No creature on this earth could place such a powerful seal on you, child. The seal was meant to fool all others into believing you were mortal. It seems it also fooled you."

Johan flushed.

"Now, there is truth to be learned," Crowler continued, "if you are ready to receive it."

With a quick motion, he threw his hood back. Johan blinked. He looked like a regular man, mostly. His hair was long and blond, tied back. He was older, wrinkled in a few areas on his face, and his eyes were beady and blue. Johan didn't know how he could be a child of Apollo, who was apparently supposed to be handsome and young, and if not for the heat Johan could've fooled himself into believing that Crowler was just another human being. "Apollo is the god of truth," Crowler said. "If you want the help of the Sons, you will have it. But I ask for nothing but the truth."

Johan lifted his chin. "I won't lie."

"I know you won't." Crowler moved toward him, reaching his bony hands out. "Your memories won't, either."

The heat became unbearable.

Johan reeled back. "No," he said quickly. "Wait—"

Something dark moved to block him from the heat and the advancing demigod. _Judai_. He stood in front of Johan, his hand plunged into his jeans pocket; Johan felt that it was where Judai kept his electrical spear when it wasn't active. He couldn't see Judai's face, but the glare on Crowler's face terrified him.

"Mr. Yuki," Crowler said slowly. "Step aside."

"No," Judai said.

The heated aura around Crowler increased. Johan drew in desperate gulps of air. He stepped slightly away from Judai when he felt it—the crackle of lightning under his skin. The scent of ozone filled the air and crashed against the heat. Crowler's face twisted into a vicious sneer, and Johan cringed down and hid his face against Judai's back.

"Judai." It was Samejima, his tone gentle. "It's entirely possible that there are memories Johan has repressed. The Sons of Apollo might be our only chance to find his parents."

Johan looked at him, biting the inside of his cheek. He hated the idea of someone touching into his memories. He felt safer standing behind Judai, who slowly drew the electric spear in its primative form out of his jeans pocket.

"He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to." Judai's voice was calm. "Right?"

Crowler's eyes narrowed.

"_Right?_"

Lightning danced off the tips of Judai's fingers.

"It's okay." Johan stepped forward and laid his cheek against Judai's shoulder blade. The demigod settled and looked over his shoulder at Johan. "It's all right. I want to find my mom and dad. If this is the only way, I'll do it. Thanks, Judai."

Judai nodded gently and stepped aside, throwing a growl in Crowler's direction.

Crowler nodded and moved toward Johan with his fingers extended. They looked like the crooked legs of an albino spider. His soundless movements sent chills up Johan's spine. "Is this going to hurt?" he whispered.

The Son of Apollo didn't replay. His narrow white hands came up to touch Johan's face. The skin of his fingers was thin as paper and inked with little gold marks in Greek. Johan flinched when the burning heat of his skin touched his own. He closed his eyes, but not before he saw the anxious look on Samejima's face, and the fierce glare on Judai's.

Colors swirled up against the darkness behind his eyelids. He felt a pressure, a drawing pull in his head and hands and feet. He clenched his hands against the feel of the tugging darkness. He felt as if he were being pushed upward against something impossibly hard. He heard himself gasp, and suddenly he was cold all over, as cold as winter. In a flash he saw a burning forest, an impossibly tall tree gnarled and twisted out of share, and two creatures dancing on the branches in a fight to the death. The taller figure screeched insults in Ancient Greek. The smaller figure, clutching a sword that sparked like a bolt of lightning, opened his mouth to scream—

"Stop!"

Judai's voice cut through the cold darkness and sliced the vision to pieces.

Johan opened his eyes with a gasp. Slowly the library came into focus, along with the worried faces of Samejima and Judai. Crowler stood unmoving, his expression unreadable.

Johan became aware of a sharp pain in the palms of his hands. He looked down to see deep red lines scored across his skin where his nails had dug in. Beneath it, he saw a flash of silvery-green.

"Judai," Samejima said quietly.

"I had to stop it." Judai stepped forward and reached for Johan's wrist. "Look at his hands."

Johan curled his fingers to cover the damage as Samejima came over. He set his hand on Johan's shoulder. "Are you all right?" The centaur's voice was so quiet that Johan strained to hear it. He nodded slowly. The crushing weight was gone. He felt the sweat plastering his hair to the back of his neck.

"The seal is powerful," Crowler said finally. "It has trapped his memories deep."

"Seals can do that?" Judai asked.

"Ones placed by the gods can." Crowler put his hood back up. "Gods as powerful as your father can. There's no way for me to break the seal here. He has to come to the Temple of Apollo with us, see the Oracle of Delphi. She can break the seal on him."

Judai looked at the centaur. He looked incredibly pale, as if the very thought of Johan meeting the Oracle terrified him. "Samejima," he said. "Johan doesn't have to do this if he doesn't want to."

"It's fine." Johan took a deep breath. His palms ached where he'd cut them. "I'll go. I want to find my parents."

Judai nodded. "Fine. Then I'm coming with you."

Johan managed to smile. He remembered Judai jumping in front of him before Crowler reached him. "Thanks." He stepped forward and placed his hand on Judai's wrist. "For everything," he added as an afterthought.

"You're welcome," Judai said, and then he grinned.

* * *

Me: Johan and Judai are going off to meet the Oracle of Delphi to release the seal Joshua and Andrea had put on Johan, so maybe they'll be able to find them now!

Lucy: But what will happen if they do? And what's up with Judai's protective streak and Johan's dream about Zeus and the other gods? What was Zeus trying to tell him? All this and more in the next chapter!


	9. The Oracle of Delphi

**Title**: City of Demeter's Tree

**Genre**: fantasy, romance, hurt/comfort

**Rating**: T for language, mild violence, and some suggested themes

**Pairing**: JudaiXJohan (_spiritshipping_); hinted others

**Summary**: When sixteen-year-old Johan Andersen heads out to the Domino Club, he hardly expects to witness a murder—much less a murder committed by three teenagers with odd powers and brandishing bizarre weapons. Johan knows he should call the police, but it's hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but him. Equally startled by his ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as demigods: a race of creatures with a human parent and a godly parent dedicated to rid the world of monsters, and to stop the wicked Demeter from finding the Seed to her Tree. Within twenty-four hours, Johan's mother disappears and Johan himself is almost killed by a grotesque monster. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mortals like Johan and his mother? And how did Johan suddenly get the Sight? The demigods, and the Olympians, would like to know...

* * *

Me: Here is the next chapter, up and running!

Lucy: Johan is heading to get the seal removed from himself so that he can hopefully find out what has happened to his mother and his father. Maybe we'll be lucky and find out something awesome!

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE: THE ORACLE OF DELPHI**

* * *

Leaving the Camp was like walking into an oven. Humid air pressed down on the city, turning the air to grimy soup. "I don't see why we couldn't have followed Crowler to get his car," Johan muttered. They were standing at the back entrance of the Camp. The streets were deserted except for a single garbage truck at the other end of the road. "What, is he embarrassed to be seen with demigods, or something?"

"A demigod and a meliae," Judai corrected. "And no. He is a demigod."

Johan suddenly wanted to smack him across the face. "I suppose he went to fetch his chariot, then?"

He meant it sarcastically, but Judai's eyes lit up. "Wow, you're good at figuring this stuff out, Johan. How'd you know that?"

"Lucky guess." Johan wasn't in any mood for Judai's jokes. "Look, I think I'd feel better if Samejima or O'Brien or Jim or even Asuka came with me." When Judai turned to him with a hurt expression, Johan ammended, "No, it's not that, Judai. I just really need someone with me who can help me think, and so far, you're still sort of—" He stopped and clapped his hands over his mouth. "Oh, shit! Ruby!"

"No, I'm Judai." Judai smiled. "And sorry, but I don't own any rubies."

"Oh, shut up," Johan replied, but it was more automatic than heartfelt. "I was supposed to call her. God, she's got to be so worried!"

"You're just not getting the spirit of this thing, are you?" Judai asked with a sly smile. "It's Gaea. If you're going to be hanging out with Greeks, you might want to learn the proper slang."

"Fuck you, you demigod asshole!"

"There you go!"

Johan groaned loudly and looked up at the sky. He thought about his mom and dad and wondered of they were all right. "You know," he said, "sarcasm is the last refuge for those with absolutely no creativity, right?"

"I can't help it." Judai shrugged. "I'm not a child of Apollo. Creativity's not my thing."

"Neither is modesty."

"That's a Hephaestus trait."

Just as Johan was about to give in to his desires and slap the sarcasm out of Judai, a golden car with tinted windows rumbled down the street and paused in front of Judai, the engine purring. Itw as long and sleek and low to the ground like a limousine, the windows curved outward.

Judai looked at him sideways, eyebrows raised. Johan rolled his eyes and focused. Suddenly the golden car changed. It had been a glamour all along. Now it was an impossibly huge chariot with a roof. It closely resembled a golden carriage. On the golden metal driver's bench sat Crowler, holding set of reins in his hands. At the other end of the reins were two horses, white as snow, who pawed the ground with their hooves and snarled. Fire crackled from their eyes and off their eight hooves.

"Come on," Judai said. "Hop in."

When Johan continued to stand there, Judai grabbed his arm and pushed him through the open door of the carriage, swinging himself up next. The carriage began to move before Judai even had the door shut.

He fell back against his seat—landing on top of Johan. "That was rude," he called.

Crowler laughed.

"Stuck up ass," Judai muttered. "Remind me to electricity his boxers, will you? That'll teach him."

Johan rolled his eyes and turned to look out the windows. He would've thought that a horse and carriage wouldn't have stood a chance in the traffic, but they were moving down easily, their soundless progression unnoticed by the thrum of taxis, buses, and SUVs that choked the avenue.

In front of them, a yellow cab cut in front of them suddenly. Johan tensed, worried about the horses—then the carriage lurched upward as the horses took to the sky and hopped lightly on top of the cab. Johan choked off with a gasp. The carriage followed up with them, easily, and rolled over the top of the cab as well. The horses landed on the ground, and so did the carriage, only with a tiny jolt.

Johan glanced backward. The cab driver was smoking and staring ahead, utterly oblivious. "I always knew taxi drivers never paid attention to traffic," he said. "I never knew it was this bad."

"You can see through the glamours now," Judai explained.

"Only when I concentrate."

"That'll change once the seal is off you. You'll be a real meliae. Think about it. You'll be silver!" Judai rolled his sleeve up and pressed his arm against Johan's. His skin was darkly tan compared to the flesh on Johan's arm. "It's close right now, but not close enough. And as soon as the seal's off, you'll see the world as it is—infinite."

"Don't quote Blake at me," Johan snapped.

Judai seemed pleasantly surprised. "I didn't know you read poetry. Blake was a son of Apollo, you know. Funny, you didn't strike me as someone who read a lot of poems."

"Everyone knows that quote because of the Doors."

Judai blinked.

"You have a Metallica T-shirt," Johan said slowly, "and you have no idea who the Doors are?"

Judai shrugged.

"Well," Johan said, shaking his head, "I suppose you don't have a lot of time for music, considering what you do."

He laughed drily. "Music's not really that important to a child of Zeus. Fighting and storms, that's what should be important. Music is an Apollo thing. Once it was a Demeter thing, too, but after the Demigod Wars..." He trailed off and didn't really say much after that.

They were rolling through another street now. Johan saw a girl about his own age sitting on the stoop of some abandoned apartment. She had long hair the color of rainwater, and she was leaning against a boy with short hair made entirely of snakes. He looked up at Johan, and his eyes flashed. Both of them were as cloudy as a stormy sky, and Johan knew that he was blind.

"I was seven," Judai said suddenly.

Johan turned to him. "I'm sorry?"

Judai was expressionless, staring out the window at the boy with the snake hair. "I lived with my mother in the country," he explained. "She never told me what I was. One day a Gorgon came, and my mother told me to hide. I hid beneath the stairs. The Gorgon came and turned my mother to stone, shattered her. She was looking for the demigod, and left when she couldn't find it. The broken half of my mother's stone face, the part with her eyes, rolled right in front of me. I stayed there all night."

It took Johan a moment to realize he'd finished speaking, and another to find his voice. "I'm so sorry."

Judai smiled without feeling. "I never understand why humans always apologize for things that aren't their fault." He shrugged lightly. "In the morning, my father came and told me what I was and brought me to the Camp. He sent me the spear a year later. I haven't seen him since."

"Oh." Johan's shoulders slumped. "Is that why you..."

"Hate my father? Mostly." Judai turned to stare at Johan. His eyes were filled with light. "The gods never care about their kids. If you're a warrior, they tend to be a little more understanding, but otherwise they ignore you. I prayed to my father a lot when I was in the Camp. I stopped when he never answered. Lots of kids do after a while. There's not a lot of demigods. We tend to die young."

"But aren't the gods still..." Johan struggled for the right word, and gave up. "Reproducing?"

Judai burst out laughing just as the carriage took a sharp right. Judai braced himself, but Johan was thrown against him. Judai caught him, hands holding him as firmly as possible without hurting him. "Yes," he said, grinning. "The gods are reproducing. They love it."

Johan pulled away from him, his face burning in the darkness. He turned to look out the window. They were rolling toward a heavy wrought iron gate, decorated with twisting golden vines.

"Here we are," Judai announced as the smooth roll of the wheels over pavement turned to a light jounce as they moved over cobblestone. Johan looked out and saw the sign: _CHURCH OF A HUNDRED GABLES CEMETERY_.

"They haven't used this in centuries," Johan pointed out.

They rolled down a narrow alley with high stone walls on either side. Judai flashed him a gleaming smile. "The Sons of Apollo have been here much longer than an old cemetery. They allowed the humans to use this sacred land as a burial sight, for purposes of redemption."

"Redemption?" Johan asked.

"This is a prison cemetery," Judai said. "Despite the name."

The carriage came to a sudden halt. Johan jumped as Judai reached his arm out, but he was only moving to open the door. His arm was lightly muscled and still a shade or two darker than Johan's.

"There's no choice, is there?" Johan asked. "In being a demigod warrior?"

"If you're a weaker force." The door swung open, letting in a blast of muggy air. "If you're a child of a lesser god, you aren't very strong and the monsters tend to avoid you." The carriage had stopped on a wide square of green grass surrounded by marble walls. "If you're the child of an Olympian, you either learn to be a warrior...or you die."

Johan shuddered.

Judai jumped out of the carriage. Johan slid onto the edge of the seat, dangling his legs. It was a long drop to the cobblestones. He jumped. The landing made his feet sting, but he didn't fall over. He flashed a grin at Judai, who was looking at him with his eyebrows raised. Johan felt jealous. He'd always wanted to do that and had never been able to.

"I would've helped you down," Judai said.

"You didn't have to," Johan said. "I jumped."

"I could see that."

Crowler was descending from his perch behind the horses. "Come along," he said. He glided away from the carriage and comforting lights of the street, moving to the darker center of the garden. A faint glow of gold shimmered around him. Johan and Judai quickly followed him, not wanting to be left behind.

Johan looked around. He'd forgotten where he was going, watching the marble walls instead, and he collided with something hard. He screeched loudly; it made a sharp noise in the enclosed area.

Judai tensed. "Don't do that!"

Johan turned and glared at him. "Why'd you stop? It was your fault."

Instead of answering, he pointed at Crowler, who had stopped in front of a statue just slightly taller than he was. The statue was that of a goddess. The marble of the statue was so smooth it was nearly translucent. The face of the goddess was fierce and beautiful and inhumanly sad. In long white hands the goddess held a sword with words written on it: Έπαινος για τους Θεούς του Ολύμπου.

The sword struck Johan with an odd sense of familiarity. He blinked at it once or twice, but couldn't recall when or where he'd seen it. "Whose sword is that?" He pointed to it.

Judai shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But that's the motto of the demigods, on it."

"What does it mean?"

Judai's grin was a white flash in the dim light. "It means 'Drop Demeter down a fucking well if you ever see her.'"

"Judai—"

"It means," Crowler said, "'Praise to the Gods of Olympus.'"

"I like mine better," Judai said.

"You _would_." Crowler sniffed indignantly and stepped forward. He reached out and traced a symbol on the base of the statue with the tips of his fingers—it left a gold residue on the marble. The grassy turf at the base of the statue opened up wide, revealing a set of stairs going down. It looked as if a grave had been dug, but no bodies were meant to go inside. Torches were lit along the sides, bright and luminous.

Judai took the stairs without issue. Halfway to the first torch, he turned back and frowned at Johan. "Are you coming?"

Johan had barely set his foot on the first step when he felt his arm caught in a burning grip. He looked up quickly. Crowler was holding his wrist, his fingers digging into his skin.

"Don't be scared," he said. "The Sons of Apollo are not at all cruel."

When he released Johan's arm, he skidded down the stairs after Judai. His heart pounded against his ribs. Judai was waiting for him at the base of the stairs. He had his hand out and held a tiny ball of electricity there. "You all right?"

Johan nodded. The stairs ended at a shallow landing; ahead of them stretched a tunnel, long and black, ridging with the edges of curling roots. A faint light of gold and red was visible at the far end.

"It's...dark," Johan said lamely.

Judai laughed. "Really? I thought I'd gone blind. Thanks for the reassurance."

Johan kicked him hard in the shin, but he hurt himself more than he hurt Judai. "Don't talk down to me."

"Well, I can't really talk up to you, can I?" Judai ruffled Johan's hair affectionately. He turned to look behind him while Johan angrily fixed his hair. "Well? Lead the way, Crowler. We aren't getting any younger down here."

Johan jumped as Crowler passed in front of them. He ignored Judai's sarcasm and continued down the path. Johan looked at Judai, who shrugged and tripped at the demigod's heels. Johan looked up at the stairs, at the darkness above, and hurried after Judai's retreating back.

* * *

Johan's first sight of the Temple of Apollo was of row upon row of marble columns that rose overhead, disappearing into the distance like the rows of trees at an orchard. The marble itself was pure, ash-white, hard-set and solid, set in random places with rubies and amber and gemstones. As they moved along, Johan saw all sorts of strange symbols—more words written in Greek. He looked down and tried hard to recognize the words. His nymph heritage did little for that; he found himself wondering if he would be able to read the symbols when the seal was lifted.

They hurried down a flight of stairs. At the bottom, there was another tunnel, which widened out at the end into a square pavillion. Each corner was marked by a spire of curved amber.

Bright torches blazed around the room, lighting it bright as the sun. In the center of the pavillion was a long table of white marble veined in red. Behind the table was an enourmous silver sword, its hilt carved in the shape of a lightning bolt. Arched over it was a bow and arrow made of iron and bone. Seated at the table was a row of Sons of Apollo, each wrapped in golden robes, hoods up.

Crowler wasted no time. "We have arrived. Johan Andersen, stand before the Sons of Apollo."

Johan glanced at Judai, but he was blinking, confused.

He looked at the table, at the long row of silent figures in their golden robes. Heat radiated off each of them. Just in front of the colorful floor, a large circle in the floor, made of gold, was decorated with ruby stars.

Johan stepped into the center of the circle as if he were stepped in front of a firing squad. He raised his head. "I'm here," he said. "Now what?"

The Sons of Apollo bowed their heads. They made a sound, like a groan or a sigh. The robed figure in the center stood up, and Johan realized that it wasn't a Son of Apollo—it was a woman. She pushed her hood back and revealed her face: bone white, gaunt and thin, completely shaven and bald. Her eyes were sunken and black. The hairs on the back of Johan's neck and on his arms stood on end, painfully. The woman looked down at him, and her lips drew back in a smile that Johan supposed was meant to be kind.

"The Sons of Apollo greet you, Johan Andersen," she said, and her voice was low and tremoulous. It was as if she were speaking with three other people, but only her mouth moved. "I am the Oracle of Delphi."

She reached her hand out—Johan felt as if something were pressing painfully against the insides of his skull.

"Stop!" he said, and to his surprise, the Oracle dropped her hand to her side. "Stop." He looked at the stunned Oracle. "You can probe my mind, but only when I say it's all right."

"If you do not wish for this," the Oracle said gently, "then you do not need to do it."

"I want to do it," Johan said. "But I want to be ready."

The Son of Apollo on the far right templed his fingers beneath his hooded chin. "It's interesting," he said in a gruff voice. "He looks so much like his father. But he has his mother's personallity."

"Yes," said another Son. "He is definitely their child."

Johan grit his teeth. He didn't want anyone poking around inside his head. But he wanted to know who he was. He wanted to have the seal removed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself down.

"I'm ready," he said.

"All right," the Oracle murmured.

The first contact felt like a hand against his forehead, cool to the touch. He heard the Oracle's voice inside his head, low and gentle. She said, _Tell me what your name is_.

_Johan Andersen_, he thought back.

_What are you?_

_I thought I was human. My mom and dad raised me to think that. I found out just recently that I'm a meliae. I don't know what that means. I'm a nymph...but I'm not sure how to be one_.

_You will_, the Oracle reassured gently. _Once the seal is gone, you will. Just relax. It will hurt_.

What? Johan wanted to ask her again, but then he felt as if his mind had snapped in on itself. He reeled as a flurry of images rose in front of his face. His eyes were closed, but still he saw them as clear as day. His mother and father were hurrying down the streets of some ancient village, dressed in silver robes that matched the tone of their skin. Joshua stood on top of a mountain, dressed in all black, growling like a bear at some creature that dragged itself up the side of the rock after him.

The images came faster now. Johan stood on top of the stairs, and his father stood in front of the door, blocking some woman with bird feathers for hair. He told her viciously that she'd made a mistake and he wasn't Joshua Andersen before slamming the door in her face. The image changed, and he saw his father on the back of a black pegasus, pacing back and forth in front of a line of demigods and nymphs of all kinds. He saw his mother cowering in a hidden room, sobbing as she stitched together a quilt. Then his father faced off against a tall monster woman with leaves for hair and a bark-colored body. He held a sword—the one in the hands of the goddess statue above the Temple of Apollo—in the air and shouted something in Abcient Greek as he charged the woman. His shout echoed in Johan's ears: "Το Δέντρο της Δήμητρας ποτέ δεν θα αυξηθεί και πάλι!"

A sudden pain lanced through his left arm. He cried out as the images fell away and he collapsed upward, breaking through consciousness like a diver. There was a cold sensation against his cheek.

He opened his eyes and saw red. He blinked twice before he realized that he was on the ground. When he moved, pain shot up his arm.

He sat up slowly. The skin over his right elbow was cracked wide open and bleeding—and the blood was lighter and tinted with green. His skin looked silvery pale in the dim light. He glanced around, dazed.

Judai looked at him, his eyes wide, his lips tense.

The words his father had shouted meant something, but he didn't know what. He opened his mouth to ask, but the Oracle seemed to sense what he'd already been thinking. "It means, 'The Tree of Demeter will never rise again.'" She smiled down at Johan sadly. Her dark eyes were pitiful. "Your father hated her more than we thought."

"The seal is removed," one of the Sons of Apollo stated. "Your senses will be dulled, for a short while."

Johan scrambled to his feet, cradling his injured arm. "Did you find anything?" He looked around the room. "About my parents?"

The Oracle shook her head slowly. "There was no memory of anything pertaining to the Seed. If there were, I would tell you." Her head lowered slightly, and she whispered something to herself. Then she raised her head. "One last thing, Johan Andersen, before you go."

Johan looked up. "What is it?"

The voice of the Oracle echoed inside his head. _Do not trust the son of Zeus_.

"What?" Johan said it aloud. "What do you mean?"

The Oracle said nothing. The other Sons of Apollo got to their feet. The Oracle inclined her head to Judai, a silent acknowledgement, and then she filed out of the room with the Sons of Apollo right on her heels. Only Crowler stayed behind as Judai hurried over to Johan.

"Is your arm all right?" he demanded. "Let me see."

"Ow!" Johan tried to pull his arm back when Judai siezed his wrist. "Yes, it's fine. That hurts! Knock it off, Judai, you're making it worse."

"You bled on the Temple floor," Judai said. Johan looked down and noticed that he was right: a small smudge of red-green blood stained the ruby star closest to where Johan had landed when he fell. "There has to be some kind of rule against that." He turned Johan's arm over slowly, gentler than Johan thought he was capable of. He caught sight of the injury and whistled; Johan saw that the blood caked his elbow and his wrist like a glove. The arm was throbbing, and it hurt like hell.

"Is this where you ruin your shirt to make a tourniquet?" Johan joked.

"If you want me to get shirtless, all you have to do is ask," Judai said with a sly smile. "You don't have to bleed all over the place."

"Whatever. Just bandage me."

"No need. Look."

Johan did. The flesh on his arm slowly sealed itself up. Though the blood was still there a moment later, the cut had completely healed itself. The pain and the stiff sensation were both gone. Johan flexed his silvery arm in wonder—like his blood, it was tinted with the faintest hint of green that he had to squint to see.

Johan felt his lips twitch into a smile. "That's cool. Eerie, but cool."

Judai stood up and held his hand out to Johan. Johan took it gratefully and let Judai pull him to his feet. His senses were still dulled, but he thought he could smell the room better.

Judai turned and grinned darkly. "Crowler," he said. "You've been pretty quiet. Anything to say to our little nymph here, or are you just hoping we both get naked and do a little dance over here? 'Cause I got to tell you, I'm all for that as long as you're paying."

"Don't be an idiot," Crowler snapped. "I was only meant to escort you from the Temple."

"We don't need a guide," Judai said. "I know this place like the back of my hand—hey, when the hell did that freckle get there?"

"The Temple of Apollo is not meant for anyone who does not share the blood of the sun god," Crowler said. "That includes morons who get a swelled head due to the fact that their father can summon a little lightning now and then."

"I'm going to tell him you said that," Judai said. "I hope he comes down and kicks your ass."

"Good luck." With an indignant huff, Crowler led them out of the Temple.

When they emerged into the open, Johan took several big gulps of the thick open air. To him, it tasted different. Smelled different. He wondered, giddily, if his new sense of smell were kicking in.

Judai looked around with a big smile on his face. "It's going to rain."

Johan inhaled, and found that he could smell it. He looked up at the light sky, still as blue as ever. "You're right," he said. "So, are we taking the carriage back to the Camp?"

Judai looked from Crowler, who stood as still as a statue, to the horse-drawn chariot they'd rode up in. It looked like an archway, and the horses snorted and hit the ground with their flaming hooves. He cracked a wide smile. "Nope. I hate this thing more than I hate the Sons of Apollo. No offense to you, Crowler. Come on, let's take a taxi!"

The words of the apparition rang loud and clear in Johan's mind as he watched Judai turn and run down the sidewalk to hail a cab.

_Do not trust the son of Zeus_.

* * *

Me: Oh, no! Why is the Oracle telling Johan not to trust the son of Zeus?

Lucy: And now that Johan's seal is removed, what's going to happen to him? Will he find his mom and dad, and if his mother is the Seed, will he be able to save her in time?


End file.
